Mass Effect: Project Hydra
by Tinson
Summary: After the end of ME3. Shepard lives, the Reapers are scrap, Earth is rebuilt, but the Mass Relays are gone. Peace is a razor's edge. Conflict between Humans and Aliens. An old enemy with new plans. And a mysterious man who might be trying to stop it, or put a bullet in the head of our favorite hero. Shepard's gonna need to cut his retirement short. Future MShep. M for V/L.
1. 01: Hero

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Mass Effect or any Characters / Societies / Races / Organizations / Ect. presently created in the Mass Effect Universe. They belong to BioWare and Co. The OC Characters / Societies / Races / Organizations / Ect. (If Any) do belong to me however.**

**This story is Rated M for Mature for a reason. Lot of language (even more so than the games) and plenty of descriptions. Anyone who played the games should not be overly surprised. I don't intend any sex scenes at all really, least of all anything of the Lemon variety. I don't shun those, but I just don't plan on it. Who knows, though? Stories tend to start writing themselves.**

**Read and Review at your discretion. Suggestions will be appreciated. Flames will be ignored. I promise nothing.**

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**01: HERO**

"And now we come to the famous Shepard Armor Exhibit."

The suit of battle armor sat as a proud monument to the sacrifice and audacity of humanity to defy the chaos the order of the universe had degraded to – or had always been. All things considered, it was a ghastly sight. The grey color of the armor was made almost indistinguishable from the blackened patches of melted fibers; not to mention the red and white stripes that had decorated the right side of the suit. The arms and shoulders were simply gone, their absence signified by splintered holes on either side where the arms would slide through. Only the N7 painted on the right breast was unmarred, as if in testament to before mentioned defiance.

A gold plaque below the display read:

**N7 Battle Armor of John Shepard**

**Commander of the Alliance Military**

**Spectre of the Galactic Council**

**Stand. Fight. Survive.**

"This is the very suit of armor worn by Commander Shepard in the final battle against the Reapers." The tour guide continued. She was tall and slim, her sleek dark hair folded into an elaborate bow held to the back of her head by unfathomable forces. She wore a military grade suit-dress; meaning that she was dressed in formal attire while showing off her smooth, caramel colored legs.

"Shepard led the final defenders of Earth on a suicide run to breach enemy lines and reach the Crucible in order to put an end to the Reaper threat."

Leading a suicide run. When hadn't he done that?

"With the aid of Admiral Anderson, Shepard was able to destroy the Reapers and save Earth."

Anderson had been the true hero. The Alliance had wanted to sweep his name under the rug; some political bullshit about not listening to the man from the gate. Of course, it had been Shepard they were ignoring, but Anderson had been his superior and advocate. His friend.

Shepard had warned everyone about the Reapers – and before that, Saren. He had been brushed aside and left to take care of matters on his own. Only made the first Human Spectre of the Galactic Council due to finding enough evidence to condemn their favorite Spectre, the Turian, Saren. By then it had been too late, and Shepard was charged to chase Saren down – which he was going to do regardless of their orders. He had chased Saren across the galaxy, using whatever means necessary to complete the objective. It had been a close call. Saren had fallen completely under the control of Sovereign – a Reaper sent to initiate the apocalyptic invasion. They had activated the Conduit, a Mass Relay located in the heart of the Galactic Council: the Citadel. It was the perfect set-up: Invade from the Galactic seat of government, taking out all the political leaders and a majority of the military forces in one fell surprise attack from the back door. The synthetic Geth had succeeded in the invasion portion at least, but the Geth were not the Reapers, and Shepard was able to stop Saren and Sovereign, resulting in their deaths, not to mention their Geth storm troopers. It had been close, and the then Council had been sacrificed, but the threat had been stopped.

Some might say that saving the galaxy once was enough for one lifetime. Technically, it was. Shepard's ship, the SSV Normandy was later ambushed while surveying a planet thought to be the source of mysterious disappearances. The enemy ship was ready and took out the Normandy's hyper-drive and sub-light engines. Weapons were out of the picture as well. His crew was dying. Shepard ordered evacuation, forcing his men to abandon ship. Only one person left, Joker the pilot. Due to Joker's rare birth defect at the exact wrong time in humanities medical advancements, he could hardly walk, let alone run. He was going to go down with the ship. Not while Shepard breathed. Shepard was able to get Joker in the final escape pod before the final blast sent him plummeting toward the planet. Before he could find out if he would survive re-entry, the oxygen tube disconnected from his helmet. Asphyxiation hadn't been all that great.

It would seem that dying once wouldn't be enough. The rogue organization of human purist, Cerberus initiated Project Lazarus to bring back the stalwart Commander Shepard. It hadn't been just about reviving his body; they wanted him to be the same Shepard he was when he defeated Saren and Sovereign. Shepard hadn't trusted Cerberus, least of all their shady leader, the Illusive Man. But the strange aliens known only as Collectors had killed his crew, along with himself, and now they were invading human colonized worlds and abducting them; it was payback.

It was never that simple. Having been dead for two years, Shepard found old allies hard to persuade to join his cause, especially Gunnery-Chief Ashley Williams, who could not side with Cerberus for anything. Some loyalties remained, however, and became the stronger for it. Picking up some new allies along the way, Shepard managed to pass through the Omega 4 Relay – a banned Relay due to the hundreds of ships using it only to never return. On the other side was a spaceship graveyard, along with the Collector's Base.

It was another suicide mission, with the destruction of the Collector Base the main objective. There they found out that the Collectors were mutated Protheans – the little-known-about civilization wiped out by the Reapers over fifty-thousand years ago. But that would pale to the next revelation: Harbinger, a Reaper like Sovereign, was controlling the Collectors, using them to abduct humans to harvest them in order to create a Human-Reaper, in the vague designs of a mechanical human skeleton. The Illusive Man wanted to salvage it to use against the Reapers, but Shepard would hear none of it. The base was destroyed and an ignorant galaxy saved again.

Sometimes lives had to be sacrificed, however. Before passing through the Omega 4 Relay, Shepard had found a Human space station in the Batarian system. The humans had already been indoctrinated by Harbinger. They sought to use the Mass Relay of that system as another Conduit, to let the Reapers enter the galaxy. Shepard was forced to destroy the Mass Relay, wiping out the entire solar system in the process. It had been the only decision, and he would pay for it.

Stripped of his Spectre status, command, and Alliance Military rank, Shepard was taken back to Earth to be tried for genocide. But the Reapers had only been delayed, traveling through the empty space between galaxies. Sooner than expected, they arrived. Earth was hit first, postponing Shepard's death sentence. Restored to the rank of Commander by Admiral Anderson, he was sent to gather the races of the Galactic Council for a full scale rescue, while Anderson stayed behind to help the resistance. It wouldn't be that simple. The Reapers were everywhere but the Citadel itself. Shepard had to go to the Turian homeworld to extract their military leader, the Primarch. Then to the Salarian homeworld to extract a female Krogan in order to cure the Genophage. Then to the Asari homeworld to retrieve a Prothean database, only to have it stolen by Cerberus and the planet lost to the Reapers. Finding out about a package of interest to Cerberus, it was just payback to steal it first. The package turned out to be a hibernating Prothean – the last living Prothean – kept in stasis to awaken into a new Reaper-free galaxy. Irony was a bitch at times.

Shepard was successful in bringing the races together to save Earth; and in bringing Cerberus to its knees; and finally, eliminating the Reapers and putting and end to inter-galactic travel through the Mass Relays, cutting off all the aliens who had come to Earths rescue from their home, perhaps forever.

Suffice it to say, being wrong about the near extinction of life-as-we-know-it wasn't something the governments of any of the races were willing to let become public knowledge.

"…the support of the Alliance Government and Military, Commander Shepard gained the allegiance of many alien races; the most noteworthy being the Asari, Turian, and Krogan armies, as well as the Salarian scientists."

Plenty of flavor, some flowery praise, but mostly Grade-A Bullshit. He was impressed.

"Now if you'll follow me to the Reaper Representation room." The guide suggested, gesturing them foreword. The group moved in a buzz of indistinguishable murmurs. "And we're walking."

"Not sure I buy any of that m'self." Came a voice colored in a London accent. "I rather think that suit'd be too big for the Shepard I knew."

Shepard turned to find a tall man in military uniform, cap resting underneath one armpit leaving his buzzed head exposed to the sun.

"Major Coats." Shepard said in an identifying greeting. "Thought you'd have been promoted by now."

Coats smirked. "Never was any good at kissing ass, Sir."

Shepard shook his head. "None of that now; I'm retired."

Coats gave him a knowing glance. "A man goes through half the hell you have is never retired, only on vacation." Shepard merely smiled. Coats nodded to back to the armor. "Where's the real one?"

"Broken down and redistributed into children's toys." Shepard said with a shrug. "I don't have a damn clue."

"'Stand. Fight. Survive.'" Coats added somewhat mockingly. "A bit overdramatic, eh?"

Shepard snorted. "I would have had it say 'I told you so.'"

Coats let out a chuckle. "But coming to your own exhibit? A bit pretentious, wouldn't you say?" Coats began moving away from the display.

"A bit pretentious." Shepard agreed, following; trying to hide the pain in his limp. "And very egomaniacal."

"Megalomaniacal?" Coats offered.

"Sure." Shepard accepted.

They reached a corner of the room that gave them more privacy.

"Okay Coats, what's this all about?' Shepard demanded, his tone losing the friendly banter.

Coats turned equally serious, taking a quick survey to confirm their privacy. "Ever heard of Dr. Nikolai Bardzecki?"

"No," Shepard answered honestly. "Should I have?"

Coats frowned slightly. "Depends. He was the assistant of Dr. Sergey Holender."

Shepard did not feign his surprise. "The creator of the N7 Program?" He thought a moment. "What do you mean 'he was'?"

Coats nodded. "He disappeared around three years ago. Brass assumed him dead."

"Three years ago?" Shepard repeated, curious. "Around the same time I was killed by the Collectors."

"Just so." Coats confirmed. "He took files on your performance with him, but Brass thought nothing of it, due to the circumstances. Then you came back two years later."

Shepard felt a moment of clarity as a piece of a puzzle he hadn't even known he had been working on slid into place. "That explains a little more why they were hesitant to believe I was me."

Coats turned away, rubbing the back of his head.

Click. Another piece. "They're still unsure." He couldn't have kept the heat out of his voice even if he had wanted to. "I get my ass shot off pulling theirs out of the fire; not once, not twice, but three times!" He all but yelled. "I save the whole of goddamn humanity-"

"Cured the Genophage." Coats cut in, keeping his voice level. "Listen, I saw what you did – saw what they did. You put your balls in the grinder for us, and I put mine in one for you. But cured Krogans on Earth has got us all trigger happy."

Shepard turned his head away. Besides himself, only Moridin Solus knew the truth of that. He thought of telling Coats, but liked the idea of Brass getting sweaty knuckles and the politicians filling their catheters.

"So why haven't they done anything before now?"

It took Coats a moment to shift back into topic. "Too much happened. First the Collectors rounding up humans; the interference of Cerberus. They were ready to nail your balls to the wall after that Mass Relay took out an entire Batarian solar system, but the Reapers attacked. Since the completion of the rebuilding process, they've dug back into it."

"And?' Shepard urged.

Coats hesitated. "Nothing yet."

Shepard waited for a moment before tightening his brow and glaring at Coats. "So I passed your inspection?"

Coats sighed. "I'm no bloody expert." He walked away, calling out without turning back. "Thought I'd warn you, mate. Watch your back."

Shepard didn't move for a very long time. The more he thought about it all, the more he fumed. The bastards were happy to sit him on a pedestal and parade him about as the fucking hero of humanity, but when the enemy from outside had been vanquished; they turned to the perceived enemy from within. Masochistic parasitic bastards.

The walk home was slow and agonizing. His right knee had never been the same since his fall from the Crucible. Surgery had seemed to help at first, but the pain and limp always returned; something to do with interference from all the Cerberus tech riddled through his body from Project Lazarus. A lot had been lost in the Reaper invasion: technology, records, lives. He had taken to using a cane, but had left it behind because he was a bitter, stubborn asshole; even to himself.

He started thinking of the aftermath of the Reaper Invasion to ignore the pain. He had been found by Coats in a search for any survivors. They told him he had been in bad shape, and they couldn't fix everything. He spent months in intensive care and more months in physical therapy. He was still going through physical theropy, damn knee. The Mass Relays were gone. There had been no sign of anyone beyond the Local Cluster. If his crew aboard the SSV-2 Normandy had survived, they were MIA. But that was not much worse than hundreds more. The bigger issue became the remaining alien races that were now stranded on Earth. And Coats wasn't kidding when he was talking about how nervous the remaining Krogans made humans in general. The knowledge of the Krogan Rebellion was wide spread, and trust was strained both ways. It didn't help that the Krogans were forced into confinement called "Galactic Consulates". Of course, letting Krogans roam free would be like to giving Cerberus the key to the city.

He missed his crew. Joker, Garrus, Liara, Tali, Vega, Ashley. Hell, even EDI and Javik would be a welcome sight. Some of his old crew had been on Earth when the Relays blew; Jack and Zaeed had visited Shepard during his therapy, telling him to 'man the fuck up'. They didn't really kept in touch after that, all of them too stubborn in their badassedness to be the first to call. As for Grunt and Wrex, they were busy keeping the Krogans from outright rioting, and Brass wouldn't let him near the Krogans anyway, not with their suspicions of him. Coats had been his only contact from those days in five months, and Shepard couldn't consider him a friend, not anymore. Too much had changed, and not much for the better.

When he finally stumbled up the stairs to his mini-mansion – curtesy of those rotting dumbasses in Brass – the sun had begun to set. When he was inside he locked the door and made his way to the liquor cabinet. Nothing like a shot of Jack for the pain. He was eyeing his cane evilly – silently demanding why it had let him stumble outside without kicking him in the ass first – when the phone rang.

Growling, he threw his cane across the room and limped over to the phone. "Who the hell is this?" He nearly shouted into the mouthpiece.

Static.

He was about to hang up when he heard breathing on the other end. Then an indistinct male voice said, "John Shepard, Major Coats didn't tell you everything. I'll be there in one hour."

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeah, I know this chapter serves mostly as a big "Previously On…" Info-Dump chapter. I felt it was necessary, just to establish the events of the past in (IMO) Shepards voice. This chapter also serves foreshadow purposes. Anyone hoping to see more relevant old faces other than Coats will have to wait. And some people won't be showing up at all as they are lost on that unknown planet since the Mass Relays blew up. ****Also, the Genophage was not cured. I always felt that that was the only real choice to make. Like it or not, a repeat of the Krogan Rebellion would not be ideal, especially with Krogan's apparently trapped on Earth (Yikes). Sorry Eve, sorry Grunt. sorry Wrex, but your race just can't be trusted. Not until you show us you can cultivate a farm, in the least.**

**I base my knowledge on playing the three main Mass Effect games as a Renegade Character, which was just overall more fun than Paragon. I have not read any novels / comics, seen any movies (though I eagerly await the live-action movie planned), nor played any Mass Effect games other than the main three. Any questions I had I sought out the Mass Effect Wiki page. If you find any inconsistencies or continuity problems, please let me know. I am trying to make this as believable continuation story as possible. Oh yeah, I also have not played the ME3 DLC's Leviathan or Omega.**

**If anyone is interested, my Romance choices were: Liara, Quickie with Jack, Miranda, Miranda. Yeah...Not the best story-wise choices, but I'm a sucker for a skin suit, and Ashley didn't get it the first time and flipped me the bird in the sequel - no respect! Sorry for you die hard shippers out there, my Shepard is kind of an ass with relationships. **

**This story all began as a personal back-story for my first ME3 Multiplayer Human Soldier.**


	2. 02: Marine

**DISCLAIMER: Same as before. M for Language / Violence. **

**Read and Review at your discretion. Suggestions will be appreciated. Flames will be ignored. I promise nothing.**

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**02: MARINE**

One hour later the door bell rang. Shepard sighed and finished shrugging on his black jacket with red racing stripes – completing his preferred civilian attire – and closed the closet door. With a groan, he used his cane to help him get to the door – apparently even he had a limit to his masochistic tendencies.

He opened the door to reveal a rather unremarkable man. He stood at maybe 5'6", had short cropped blonde hair and green eyes. His skin was two shades too light to be tan, and a shadow under his bottom lip showed where he had tried to grow a soul patch. Whatever shape his body was in was hidden underneath a red and white jumpsuit that looked like it belonged in a lab somewhere. He looked lean and solid enough.

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'll tell you everything once I'm inside."

Shepard didn't like his tone, and thought of shutting the door on his face. Instead he said, "You better not be fucking with me, boy." before shuffling to the side and opening the door wider to grant entrance. The man strode in just as if he had not needed permission. Shaking his head, Shepard closed and locked the door, leading the man to the sitting room. Shepard eased himself down on a chair, taking care not to bend his leg the wrong way. The man opted to stand, pacing. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, then he stopped and leaned against the closet door across from Shepard.

"Like I said, Coats didn't tell you everything."

Shepard couldn't hide his impatience. "No shit. And you are going to tell me everything?" He couldn't keep the unbelieving tone from his voice, implying he assumed this man would lie to him as well.

"I remember hearing about you on the Netfeeds. I read about your survival on Akuze. It's hard to live with seeing your entire unit whipped out. I can't imagine seeing it happen against thresher maws."

"I wasn't the sole survivor." Shepard pointed out.

"You mean Corporal Toombs?" The man ventured. "True he survived that night, but fifty marines didn't."

"What's your point?"

"It's the ability to rise above such psychologically traumatic experiences that people learn to emulate. Strive to copy." He sounded almost reverent.

"Who the hell are you?" Shepard said with a lot more venom than before.

"My name is Martin Shelby and ever since I joined the Alliance Marines, I wanted to be you."

Shepard yawned. "One Conrad Verner is enough for any man."

Martin didn't blink. "I am not another Conrad Verner."

"Really?" Shepard asked, unconvinced.

Martin sighed and fell back into his narrative. "I became increasingly fascinated with you and soon opted to join the N7 Program. I made it through to N6, but was told I just didn't have the marks to take on the N7 trials. It infuriated me, but I thought of what you would do and that's what I did. I did what I could with what I had."

Martin began to pace again, as if the telling made his blood surge, his muscles twitch. "When you disappeared, apparently dead, I didn't believe. I knew you couldn't be dead. Everyone thought I was crazy, until you returned. And you kept kicking ass, giving Brass the finger all the way. When the call came to fight the Reapers, I was there in a heart beat. I can't tell you how awful it was, but I managed to survive, and do quite a bit of damage. You would have been proud."

Shepard shifted and rubbed his knee as it began to ache. "I highly doubt it. I hard to please."

That did not seem to sit well with the younger man, because he stopped moving, his back to Shepard. Then he spoke again. "Some ops went good, but most went bad. I saw a lot of people die. After what seemed like years of hell, I was tapped for a top secret experiment. I didn't know what was going on until it was too late. They said it was the next step in the evolution of the N7 Program. They said my being denied the N7 tests made me perfect for their test. I didn't know what else to do; it was all to stop the Reapers, right?"

Shepard didn't reply.

"They called it the N8 Program, but it wasn't like the N7. It wasn't about conditioning yourself. Before I could escape, they had me as their own lab rat. The experiments were horrible. They did things to me, put things inside of me that made me burn. I began hoping that my skin would just melt away so I couldn't feel the pain anymore. In the end, they got what they wanted: An ultimate soldier. I'm faster, stronger, and more durable than anyone, anything. I know this because they forced me to fight everything. I killed three Krogans with my bare hands, without a single scar to show for it. They even dumped me on a planet thriving with thresher maws. They came back a week later and I was still alive. I had killed five of the damn things, and all they had given me was a damn Kessler V."

Shepard snorted. "I'm supposed to believe this?"

Martin suddenly smirked, full of smug pride. "I could give you a demonstration. A target practice, perhaps? I can hit the cap off a bottle at a hundred paces, and leave the bottle intact for your beer drinking pleasure." When Shepard didn't offer any sign of being impressed, he added. "Without a scope."

Shepard raised an eyebrow at that. "I got a better idea that shooting at perfectly good alcohol." Slowly, he made it to his feet. "Give me your best shot."

Martin frowned. "Beating a cripple is hardly a test of my skills."

Shepard growled at the remark. "If a little shit like you can take me, gimp leg or no gimp leg, then I'll turn in my N7 tags."

Martin moved fast, faster than Shepard had given him credit. A damn train slammed into his chest and he barreled over his chair and crashed atop the metal table in the center of the room. His flight had lasted a good ten feet. He found it hard catching his breath, and his hand went for his M-77 Paladin strapped to his hip. He had landed awkward, and couldn't get a grip. Martin Shelby was above him suddenly, a grin of achievement on his face.

"I wanted you to know the hell you put me through, Shepard." His voice had lost emotion. "I wanted you to know why I killed you." Suddenly Martin's hand was around Shepard's throat. Air was lost, but Martin wasn't stopping with suffocation, the pressure was building and Shepard knew his neck would be crushed.

A blur hit Martin in the back and the pressure disappeared from Shepard's throat. He gasped in air, his lungs feeling aflame. He turned to see the two men struggling with each other. They seemed to be evenly matched, countering each others moves like they knew each other. He supposed they would. The one in Shepard's old brown pants with orange vest managed to kick the one that had been trying to kill Shepard. Attempted-Murderer sailed past Shepard and crashed into the now open closet.

"Damn it." Shepard gasped. "I had everything perfect in there." He managed to get up, upholstering his pistol and took aim. The distance wasn't a problem for the precision scope. As the man pushed himself from the closet, Shepard set the crosshairs between his eyes and pulled the trigger. Blood splattered the wall and doorway – and by effect, his clothes, damn it – and the limp form of his would-be assassin crumpled to the floor.

"Guess even you ain't more durable than a hole in the head." Shepard spat, tasting blood.

The second man walked calmly over and examined the body, then without a seconds hesitation plunged his hand into the dead man's chest. He came up with what Shepard assumed to be the heart, only it looked…off.

"Do you believe me now?" Martin Shelby asked, his green eyes showing neither humor nor pleasure in the events that had transpired.

"What? Him being your clone?" Shepard shrugged. "How do I know you're not his evil twin?"

"This is serious, Shepard."

Shepard sighed and grunted as his knee screamed in protests of what had happened. "I guess I have no choice but to believe you for now."

"Yes, you must." Martin insisted. "If I had not arrived before him, if you had not hidden me in the closet, I would not have been able to save you."

"I had it under control." Shepard assured him.

Martin was silent for a moment. "You are a bigger asshole in person." He decided.

"Give me a week and a suicide mission or two, and I'll grow on you." Shepard stumbled to a seat and stretched his leg out again.

"So?" Martin demanded.

"So what?" Shepard didn't like the kid. Sure he'd saved his life, but his twin had tried to kill him. A man tended to not let something like that go.

"Will you help me take them down?" Martin sounded frustrated.

"Listen," Shepard explained, as if to a child. "I don't care."

"But he was sent to kill you." Martin echoed Shepard tone of voice.

"And he's dead. What do I need to do now? Hunt down fifty guys in lab coats who could only get their jollies from bastardizing the creation of life? I got better things to do."

"Like what?' Damn, but the kid was never going to let it go. "Like sit on your crippled ass and watch the world go by?"

"Yeah, I think I earned that." Shepard had had enough of this little fuck preaching to him. "I saved the goddamn galaxy! Three times! So I think I've earned the right to tell everyone to fuck off!"

Martin looked at him coldly for a moment. "You're right. You have earned it. But the Shepard I knew wouldn't have let that hold him down."

"The Shepard you knew?" Shepard repeated in astonishment. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I am every man and boy who heard your name and felt hope." Martin said simply, shaking his head. "It's not over, Shepard. Are you going to let this go without seeing it through?"

"What are you talking about, it's not over?"

Martin's reply came as a whisper. "Cerberus."

"What?" Shepard tried to jump out of his seat but his knee kicked him back on his ass with a grunt. "Cerberus is dead. I ended it. The Illusive Man is dead."

"It's not dead." Martin insisted. "They were in charge of the N8 Program. They were what created him." He gestured to the corpse with his likeness. "And if they did it to me, they aren't going to stop. They want you dead. What makes you think they'll stop with this one assassin?"

Shepard chewed on that a moment. The kid had a point. If Cerberus had somehow survived, if there had been an operation that the Illusive Man had kept completely off the books… It was a threat he couldn't ignore, could he? Had he sacrificed his life twice just to sit back and let those bastards take control of everything? He saw again the memory of Thane Krios being killed by Kai Leng. He saw the Illusive Man, indoctrinated by the Reapers, forcing Shepard to shot Anderson. Did he really take them down, just to let them rebuild? He looked down at his knee. What could he do in that condition? Did he even stand a chance at walking down the damn street, let alone bringing down a reborn Cerberus? Did it matter?

No. He couldn't just sit back, not anymore.

"What's the plan?" Shepard growled.

Martin smiled. "I knew you wouldn't back down."

"Not much I can do with this leg, but I can shoot, and I can order people around. So what's your first move?"

Martin rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I suppose I didn't really have one beyond recruiting you."

"That's a good start. Let's continue." Shepard stood and limped to his fallen cane.

"What do you mean? Recruiting?"

Shepard grunted. "The more feet we got on the ground, the better off we'll be. As of now, we only have three feet. I know a couple people who will be more than willing to join us."

"Some of your old crew will be welcome." Martin agreed.

Shepard picked up his phone; trying to remember the numbers he'd been given. "Yes, I know. But first, clean this mess up." He indicated the dead Martin Shelby. The living Martin Shelby sighed and got to work. Shepard left him to it, punching some numbers.

"Who the fuck is this, and how did you get this number?" A cold voice sliced through the receiver.

Shepard sustained a chuckle. "Why are you so cheerful, Jack? Someone let you blow them up recently?"

"Shepard?" The voice turned lukewarm. Damn, she must've been off her period or something. "Did you finally have them cut that leg of yours off?"

"Not yet. I still got two legs and even with the bad knee, I can kick your ass."

A snort from her side. "Not the leg I was talking about. It's not like you use it anyway."

Shepard couldn't help but smile. "Jack, conversing with you is like a pleasant day of trench warfare. God, but I've missed it."

"Don't go soft on me now, Shepard."

"I'm still two stones harder than you are, Jack." Shepard assured her.

"We'll see about that."

"Is that a proposition, Jack? Sounds like you're the one getting soft."

"Fuck you, Shepard." Jack sounded pleased with how the conversation had progressed. "So did you just call for phone sex, or is there something you want?"

"Apparently Cerberus is back in town, and I was wondering if you wanted to help me take them down."

"Shit!" Jack's voice became cold again. "Whatever the plan is, I want in, Shepard. You hear me?"

"Understood." Shepard agreed. "Do you have Zaeed's number?"

"I can do you one better." Jack informed. "He's here."

Shepard blinked a moment, taking in that news and the implications it brought. "Jack…" he hesitated. "I'm so happy for the two of you."

"Fuck you, Shepard." Jack hissed. "It's not like that at all. We're just business associates."

"Right." Shepard conceded, unconvinced. "So where are you two so we can pick you up?"

"We?" Jack seemed surprised. "Who's with you?"

"A new kid who came to me with the information. I'm still unsure whether to trust him or not."

"From what I remember the issues were always in trusting you." Jack said with a half laugh. "I think I like this kid already." She gave him the address and they hung up.

Shepard turned to find Martin staring at him as if he had saddened turned into an Asari. "What?"

"It sounds like you and Jack were…together?"

"Well, not really." Shepard explained. "Just a rough quickie in the engine room. No strings attached."

"I never thought you swung…" He coughed. "Never mind. Don't ask, don't tell."

Shepard was confused, until he began running the phone call through his head, ignoring Jack's side. "Wait a minute…" He couldn't help the laughter coming from his gut. "You think that Jack is a…and I'm a…" He couldn't finish it. The idea was so ridiculously funny in its ironic absurdity. "You don't understand. Jack is a w-" He stopped. A woman, Jack was not. "Jack's a l-" Nope, not a lady either. "You know what? I'll let you decide for yourself exactly what Jack is."

"So we're going to pick this Jack guy up, and then what?" He seemed to not want to look at Shepard directly.

"Well, Jack and Zaeed, actually. Apparently they're…business associates." Shepard found it was good to laugh. He hadn't laughed in…a lifetime.

"What use are only two men going to be?" Martin pressed, concerned.

Shepard just shook his head. "Kid, just drive and let me worry about the manpower."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: A bit of a mind bender at first, eh? Basically, Closet-Shelby (hehe) told Shepard all of that first stuff already, and then the second Shelby showed up. Yeah, Shepard wasn't really in the mood to hear it all again. I mean to showcase Martin Shelby's strength and abilities more in the future. **

**You know, I never really considered Jack and Zaeed to be a possible item until I typed those words. But I think I actually like it. I was considering a possible Jack/Shep ship to start, but I think I'm liking Jack/Zaeed better. They seem kind of perfect for each other. And what is romance without the possible danger of killing each other, eh Mr. and Mrs. Smith? I don't know, like I said before, these stories tend to write themselves. The "phone sex" between Jack and Shep are an example of this. :P**

**Needless to say, Shepard isn't going to be much use with that bum knee. What to do about that? I don't know. It was introduced because I felt he needed to have a rather severe injury after surviving the Crucible. An injury that showed he is just human. But it's definitely going to become a problem quickly. Notice his hesitance to get in on this? The hell, Shep?! Well, he's been a couch potato for too long. Damn complacency!**

**As for Martin Shelby, he's my afore mentioned ME3 Multiplayer Human Soldier. Who is he? Can he be trusted? Is he the EVIL Twin? If so, where's the goatee? Questions, questions!**


	3. 03: Trust

**DISCLAIMER: Same as before. M for Language / Violence. **

**Read and Review at your discretion. Suggestions will be appreciated. Flames will be ignored. I promise nothing.**

* * *

**03: TRUST**

After arming himself with his M-77 Paladin heavy pistol, N7 Valkyrie assault rifle, and M-300 Claymore shotgun, Shepard shuffled out of his house. Night was well upon them, and he knew they wouldn't reach their destination until after dawn. He found Martin Shelby in a get-up that resembled the Cerberus Ajax armor while also leaning toward the vanilla N7 Armor. He was armed well with pistol, assault rifle, shotgun, sniper rifle, and sub-machine. He could carry a lot of weight, and it didn't seem to slow him down.

Martin turned to Shepard. "I didn't think they would let you keep all of that, retired as you are."

Shepard let the barbs slide off of him. "I can be very insistent. And where have you been hiding your toys?"

"These were my rags during the training ops." His voice trailed off, as if in thought. Shepard couldn't see his face due to the helmet, but he could imagine the pain he was trying to fight off. If half of his story had been true, he'd been through as much hell as Shepard, in half the time span.

"I sure hope this bird can fly." Shepard jested, figuring to deflect the mans inward journey into his past. "Last time I was in a Mark II Falcon I had a rough landing."

The comments seemed to relax Martin as he replied lightheartedly, "Your pilot must have had the reflexes of a Hanar."

Shepard stepped up to Martin until they were face-to-helmet. "I was the pilot."

Martin didn't seem threatened, and Shepard couldn't blame him after what had happened before. "Like I said, the reflexes of a Hanar."

"Zaeed could tell you a story about Hanar reflexes."

Martin entered the small cargo jet. "Then we'd best get going. I love a good story."

"I bet you do." Shepard said under his breath as he sat in the passenger seat. He looked back to see the standard seating for military drop ships. Enough room for eight men. Maybe four Krogans.

The M-II Falcon was a model twenty years behind the times, and it showed its inferiority in the loud hum of the engine and the sluggish liftoff. As they moved through the sky, Shepard couldn't help but notice the not-so-subtle vibrations the entire aircraft made.

"This bird's about to fall apart." He yelled over the engine.

Martin didn't reply, but seemed to increase the throttle, making the ship rattle all the more.

"Bastard." He whispered.

**- - - - ****EIGHT HOURS LATER**** - - - -**

They made their destination just as the sun began to peak above the horizon. The flight had become a blur to Shepard as exhaustion began to take hold of him, and the spikes of pain from his knee kept him from indulging. The ships vibrations did not help his knee in the least. He wished he had just had it taken off and replaced with a synthetic leg. That type of medical procedure was still under re-development. The Reaper's had left their mark on Earth.

"This is the place?" Martin did not sound impressed.

Shepard looked out the window to see a rather plain building about half the size of his half-mansion. There were no outward signs of residency. "Yeah, this is where Jack told me to go."

"Let's get this over with then."

They stepped out of the Falcon, Shepard struggling with his cane a moment. They approached the building and eyed it curiously. It was plain. Very plain. Windows set high above them, the darkness telling them nothing. They found double door on the east side, the grey paint peeling off to reveal rusted steel.

Suddenly he was seized by an unseen force and lifted into the air. He could not move a muscle, struggle as he might. He could make out a faint blue glow about him. His head could not move, but his eyes could. He saw Martin in much the same predicament as himself.

"Awesome." Shepard breathed, barely audible.

"You are too easy, Shepard." Jack's voice echoed from the darkness to the right. "Like a virgin his first night on Omega."

Before anymore words of camaraderie could be uttered, the blue glow around Martin dispersed and he landed in a crouch, shifting and throwing out his hand toward Jack's voice. Biotic energies surrounded him and there was a grunt from Jack and Shepard was released from his biotic binds. He landed bad, and his knee gave out. Crying out, he fell on his side, struggling with his new-found mobility to get back up.

"Don't even think about it, mate." Came Zaeed's cold and calculating voice.

Shepard used the doors to get to his feet, leaning against it and pulling out his Paladin to aim at Martin Shelby. Zaeed was behind him, a shotgun to the back of Martin's head. The kid didn't move, but to his credit, he didn't shake either.

Jack's voice came back in a snarl of anger. When she appeared, she was surrounded in the biotic energies as she prepared to unleash death and destruction the likes of holy living hell.

"Jack!" Shepard shouted, drawing her attention. Hopefully not her anger.

"Why didn't you tell me he was a biotic?" Jack fumed.

It was a good question. He turned to Martin, whose expression was still hidden by the helmet. "Well?"

Martin didn't respond, he kept silent and still. Shepard couldn't even see the man breathe. Then he relaxed. "I thought it would be prudent to keep the fact to myself." He said as if that should be the end of it.

Shepard narrowed his eyes. "How much more aren't you telling us, Martin?"

"Relax Shepard," Jack interrupted, striding up to Martin. "Everyone keeps their secrets." She began walking around Martin as if sizing him up. Zaeed backed neatly out of her way as if in routine. "I'm willing to trust him for now."

Suddenly she glowed and an aura appeared around Martin, shoving him to the ground. She overpowered him, or he just didn't resist. "But if you so much as cough at the wrong moment, I'll grind your balls into paste and shove it down your throat. Do we understand each other?"

"Perfectly." Martin's response was lacking any hint of the strain his body must be in.

"And if she don't get to you, I will." Zaeed assured him. "And I won't be as gentle."

The biotic glow winked out and Martin got to his feet, seemingly untroubled. He studied Jack for a moment. "Cerberus made you, didn't they?"

"How the fuck would you know that?" Jack snarled. The glow didn't appear again, but she was just waiting for a reason.

"Because they made me too." They stared at each other for a moment, and something unspoken passed between them. Jack turned away, flipping them all off.

"Don't worry, lad." Zaeed assured him. "She's really quite the flower once you get to know her."

"The Venus Flytrap comes to mind." Martin ventured, earning a bark of laughter and a slap on the shoulder from Zaeed.

"I think I like you, lad." Zaeed confessed. "God help you, but I think I do."

**- - - - ****TEN MINUTES LATER**** - - - -**

Now that they were all seated in the Falcon and not trying to kill each other, Shepard was able to take in his old friends. Zaeed and Jack had not changed a tick. And yet, they had. Jack had gone and shaved her head again, and Zaeed sported a new crevice in his face running vertical under his left eye – the good eye. But those differences were peripheral. Shepard didn't know if it was just his imagination, but they seemed to be sitting rather close to each other. Were they smiling at each other? It was hard to tell.

Truth be told, he didn't know how to feel about them being in a relationship. He respected Zaeed, and Jack both. He had not been lying when he told Martin his quickie with Jack had been a one-time no-strings-attached event. They had released their pent up aggression – well, Jack had indulged in it, anyway – and that was that. They had never even spoken of the moment. Still, it made Shepard feel suddenly and completely alone.

Thoughts of Miranda were unavoidable. Where was she? Did she even live? Now that Shepard began to think on it, he didn't know who was on the Normandy with Joker when it had been lost. He had ordered Joker to pick everyone up, but had he? It begged to question if any of them were Earthbound, why hadn't they contacted him?

His knee began to flare up again and he stifled a groan.

"What's the matter, Shepard?" Zaeed inquired. "Damn leg acting up again?"

Shepard sighed, gritting his teeth. "Yeah, nothing I can't live through."

"Quit your bitching, Shepard." Jack rolled her eyes. "Give him a shot of Burst, Z."

"Are you sure, Jack?" Zaeed hesitated. "It's our last shipment until…Egypt."

"Don't worry, Shepard will pay us back." Jack gave him a hard stare. "Won't you?'

Shepard was about to ask just what the hell Burst was, when Martin cursed swerved the Falcon, almost depositing Shepard in the back with the other two. The next few minutes was a chaotic shuffle with Jack and Zaeed demanding what was going on and Martin continuing to zigzag the ship and telling them all to shut up.

A voice crackled through the Falcon's com. "THIS IS THE ALLIANCE MILITARY. GIVE IT UP, SHEPARD! WE KNOW YOU ARE HARBORING THE DANGEROUS FUGITIVES ZAEED MASSANI AND JACQUELINE NOUGHT! WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED! THERE IS NO ESCAPE!"

Jack turned a furious look to Shepard. "What the fuck is this, Shepard? You set us up?"

Shepard couldn't hide the venom in his reply. "I don't have a damn clue what's going on. Why don't you tell me why the two of you are labeled dangerous fugitives?"

"That might have something to do with the fact that we ripped off several Alliance warehouses." Zaeed offered helpfully.

"You stole from the Alliance?" Shepard demanded. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"We were thinking that it would make us damn rich." Zaeed replied, giving a half smirk.

"The bigger question here is how they found us." Jack interrupted, still glaring at Shepard.

Shepard sighed and rubbed his head. "I just found out that the Alliance hasn't trusted me since my whole death and revival tour. It's possible they had my phone bugged." He slammed his fist against the door. "Damn it! They are just looking for an excuse to lock me away."

"Sorry to cut the show and tell short, but we've got a problem." Martin sounded worried for the first time. "They weren't bluffing, they got the whole area locked down. I can't lose them."

The com crackled again. "IF YOU DO NOT SURRENDER, WE WILL BE FORCED TO OPEN FIRE!"

Jack leaned back, folding her arms. "Well, Shepard, another fine mess you've led us into. Any master plans to get us out?"

"Yeah." Shepard reached over and turned the auto-pilot on.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Martin cried out in alarm.

"Don't wet yourself, sport. I got a plan." Shepard explained. "Give me the controls and I'll keep them occupied. You three jump out and get away."

"I always knew you were crazy, Shepard, but I'm not." Jack protested.

"I like it." Zaeed interjected, earning a punch in the chest by Jack. "But why don't I drive the bird and you jump?"

Shepard expected the question and had an answer. "You're all going to need each other to get out of this. With my bum knee I'd just slow you down."

"You expect us to jump out and what? Land on a cloud?" Jack pressed.

Shepard knew it was a long shot, but it was all he had. "Come on, Jack, you're the strongest biotic I know. You can't dampen your fall?"

"A fall from ten meters, sure." Jack agreed. "But two hundred stories high? Not a chance, and definitely not for three people."

"I can do it." Martin cut in. "I can get us through it."

"I knew I liked you for some reason." Zaeed smiled, enjoying the rush.

"I'm surrounded by fucking morons." Jack threw up her hands in frustration. "Even if you could do this, that much biotic power would be like a signal flare to their sensors. We'd be better off getting shot out of the sky and hoping for the best."

"If I wait until just before we hit, I can catch us and disperse it before they can pick it up." Martin assured.

"Ever heard of inertia, dumbass?"

"I can do it." Martin repeated.

Shepard didn't have time to wonder if he could trust Martin. This would be his test. "Go."

Martin switched the controls to the passenger and climbed into the back. Shepard took a breath. "I'll start by opening the bay doors only half way. Hold on to something." He pushed the buttons and felt the cabin depressurize as air was sucked outside. "I'll take the bird into a vertical climb, that's when you will drop. They shouldn't see you in the darkness."

"You better not fuck this up, newbie." Jack fumed.

"Trust me." The phrase had a strange effect on Jack. Shepard could hear her shift around.

"Get ready." Shepard ordered, bringing the Falcon into a climb. "Now."

"Son of a bitch!" Jack yelled and then silence reigned in the M-II Falcon.

"YOU HAVE THREE SECONDS TO COMPLY OR WE WILL SHOOT YOU DOWN!" The com blared.

Shepard grabbed the com and yelled back, "This is Shepard! I'm going to set this bird down! I repeat, this is Shepard! Do not fire! I am surrendering!'

He found the roof of a tall building and set the Falcon down. He waited, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. Five shuttles touched down around him, but he noticed at least four more hovering above. It didn't escape him that they were pointed guns-first. He waited, figuring it was better if they came to him. It didn't take long before he was surrounded by Alliance Marines, all with assault rifles trained on the Falcon. He opened the door and slowly exited, leaving his guns behind. He was thrown to the floor and felt his hands enclosed in humming metal restraints. The marines searched the Falcon, but of course found nothing.

_You better have got them down safely, Martin._ Shepard thought, willing Martin to receive his message. _If anything happened to them, I'll break your goddamned neck! Fuck biotics!_

He was hauled into one of the Alliance shuttles and shoved into a seat.

"We finally caught you, you traitorous bastard!" A marine with dark hair and a hint of a beard growled. "Must be my lucky day; you landed in my shuttle." Something in his features and accent remind Shepard of someone.

"You're gonna pay for what you did to my brother." The marine whispered. Then Shepard saw the name tag on his armor.

VEGA, MADDOX

"You're the brother of James Vega?" Shepard asked, confused. Vega had never mentioned a brother.

"Close enough, pinchero." He spat in Shepard's face. "I'm his cousin, but I looked up to him like a brother. And you got him killed. I'm going to have fun with you." The punch in the face was unexpected, but not unpleasant. Finally, he found sleep despite his damned leg.

**- - - - HOURS LATER - - - -**

Shepard awoke to a darkened room with only one dim light in the center shining upon him. He was tied to a metal table that seemed to be secured into the floor. A standard Alliance Military interrogation room. He hadn't been in one of these for years. Of course he had been on the other side of the room back then.

"What the fuck is going on?" Shepard demanded to the darkness. He wouldn't play the cowed victim. No fucking way. "I demand to speak to General Meacham immediately!"

"You're a lucky son of a bitch, Shepard." Came a familiar voice dipped in London. Major Coats came into view.

"After our meeting I knew you were a piece of shit, Coats," Shepard spat blood on the floor. "But this is a new low."

"You should be glad it's me in here and not someone else." Coats informed him. "I'm just going to talk with you. Some of these others want blood."

"Why?" Shepard demanded. "What the fuck did I do except save the galaxy?"

"We've been through this." Coats reminded him. "It's not so cut and dry anymore. You've made some bad decisions, and conspiring with known fugitives is just the latest strike against you."

Shepard snorted. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come now, Shep." Coats chided him. "You must have figured out we tapped your phone. There's no denying it."

"What makes you think I didn't know already and this was all a clever smoke screen?" Shepard asked him.

"Are you confessing to traitorous conspiracy?" Coats asked seriously.

Shepard didn't answer.

Coats sighed and rubbed his eyebrow. "Listen, we both know how this goes. You tell me what you know, or I'm going to have to let in the guys who want to play with you."

Shepard spat another gob of blood on the floor.

"Suit yourself." Coats sounded truly sorry. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: Coats an adversary and Martin an ally? Is Burst the answer to Shepard's handicap? It is too soon to tell how things will play out. One thing is for certain: Shepard doesn't know shit! XD**

**So I played up the Jack / Zaeed thing a little bit. Testing waters. Of course they're criminals now. I don't think that would be much of a surprise.**

**Totally made up the M-II Falcon on the spot. Didn't even bother to research known Mass Effect Alliance shuttles. Fuck it.**

**So Vega isn't James real surname. I liked the name Maddox. Nothing like a family member with a false need for vengeance to cause some strife in Shepard's life.**

**I haven't forgotten about Cerberus. These detours are necessary.**


	4. 04: Traps

**DISCLAIMER: Same as before. M for Language / Violence. **

**Read and Review at your discretion. Suggestions will be appreciated. Flames will be ignored. I promise nothing.**

* * *

**04: TRAPS**

The beatings weren't the worst part, in Shepard's estimate. The beatings actually helped him forget about his leg, which was appreciated. The worst part was that he couldn't see an end without his death. It just wasn't in the cards he could see. They had already revealed themselves fully by ambushing him and now interrogating him. Brass was scared shitless of him, and they couldn't just cut him loose again. Not unless they had incentive to do so.

"All you need to do is give me something, Shepard." Coats pleaded, forcing him to drink some water. "Give me something, and I can stop the pain."

Shepard almost laughed. Pain. Coats didn't know pain. Pain was watching as your entire squad was torn apart by thresher maws and being touted as a hero because you got away. Pain was being ordered to be a ruthlessly proficient killer and then condemned for the lives he had saved. Pain was suffocating in space while debris of your ship floated around you, knowing that you died alone. Pain was waking up every morning with a reminder of the price for being a goddamn hero. Pain was making a decision that ended the lives of millions in one instant, because the alternative would have been far worse. Shepard _was_ pain!

But he needed to give them a reason. Any reason.

"Cerberus." He choked out.

"Ah, now we are getting somewhere." Coats nodded. "You didn't end them, did you? Where is the Illusive Man?"

Shepard shook his head. "Dead. I shot that bastard."

"We'll pretend I believe you."

"Cerberus isn't gone. They're back. Or maybe they were always here." Shepard spat blood, trying to give them a gem. "It has to do with Project Lazarus."

"That is the name of the project that supposedly revived you from death." Coats was eager, taking the bait easy. "What about it?'

"Reviving me was only the beginning." He couldn't believe Coats was buying it so readily. "I don't know the details, just that there's much more to it. With the Illusive Man dead, they must have been forced underground. Even further underground than they usually are."

"This could just be an elaborate story to divert my attention." The tone did not match the words, however. He liked the bread crumbs he was following/

"I can find out, I can bring them down." Shepard tried to sound desperate. "Send me in and I'll get you what you want."

"And what do I want?"

"Security." Shepard said simply. "Security from any and all threats."

Coats was silent before nodding his head, a look of contentment on his face. "Very well, I'll bring this to Meachum. I won't promise anything."

Coats left and Shepard was alone again. It seemed like he always ended up alone. On the streets of Earth as a kid; on Akuze; in the empty darkness above a random planet; on the crucible with Anderson's corpse at his side; in his own museum exhibit.

Being alone had never bothered him before. If he was never attached to his squad, he couldn't miss their presence when they died. The Normandy crew had changed that; Liara had changed that. She had been the first step, but Miranda had impounded on it in a way Liara never could have. Miranda had given him his life back.

At first he just liked her ass, and boy did she have a fine one. But that night in her rooms before everything went down; it all truly changed. Her confession of wanting to plant a control chip in his head, her insistence that she couldn't be forgiven; it all made him see them both for what they were: Imperfect. She was as flawed as he was, only he had the external scars to show for it. It made him realize that life and love wasn't about being perfect. It was all about pain, and how the pain made you human.

It had been that realization that had given him the strength to defeat the Reapers. The Reapers were about controlling the chaos of mortality. But life was chaos. Life was pain. Because with pain you grow and learn. The Reapers could not feel pain, could not learn. They were less than imperfect, they were an abomination.

Coats returned and seemed puzzled by something. He didn't speak at first, instead he paced around a few minutes. Shepard was about to break the silence when Coats came over to him and began releasing his bonds.

"What do you have on Meachum?" His whisper was barely audible.

"What?" Shepard croaked, confused.

"Never mind." Coats continued, still not raising his voice. "Whatever you know, I don't want to know."

Shepard couldn't begin to comprehend what had taken place behind that door. They were letting him go? Had it been his bullshit story, or something else? Nothing made sense. He was never very good at chess, and in this game he couldn't even see the board.

"You're free to go, Shepard." Coats voice was now at normal pitch. "I suggest you keep your nose clean. I really don't want to see you here again."

**- - - - HOURS LATER - - - -**

They dropped him off at his house – his bugged house. The sun was high in the sky and it made Shepard feel as if he had lost an important moment. He hadn't seen Maddox Vega since being punched out, and he assumed that was due to Coats. The bruises on his body throbbed in a pleasant contrast to the constant flame in his knee.

Nothing about this situation was right. Just letting him go without any sort of deal? It smelled bad. He knew they had left a guard outside, but he didn't know who it was. Not that it mattered. In his condition he couldn't have found a way around a girl selling lemonade. He grabbed a bottle of Jack, ignoring the glass cup and fell onto his couch.

"About damn time you came home, Shepard."

Shepard wrenched his leg trying to jump up and spilled Jack all over his shirt. "Shit!" He grumbled. "Since when did stealth enter into your presentation, Jack?"

She walked into view. "Working with Zaeed, you pick up things."

"You know my place is bugged, right?" Shepard asked. "They know you're here now, so don't go all ape-shit on me again."

"Please." Zaeed cut in, his voice dripping with condescension. "You would have to be as blind as a Hanar not to see where they hid their toys. Damn insulting is what it is."

"So it looks like you two had a safe landing." Shepard interjected, not wanting Zaeed to know how damned impressed he was. "Where's the green kid?"

"Virgin Marry is outside taking care of your caretakers." Jack sounded appraising.

"You like Martin, then?" Shepard asked, surprised.

"He's got a decent head on his shoulders. Crazy as I am." Jack shrugged. "As long as he doesn't spend too much around you, I see great promise in him."

"Still ready to grind him to paste?"

"In a heartbeat." Jack showed her teeth in a facsimile of a smile. If you ignored her eyes, you could almost believe she had ever hugged a puppy.

The door opened and Martin appeared, still in his full body armor – helmet and all.

"I guess that's our cue to make like a herd of galanzar and hit to the sky." Zaeed offered. "I got transportation in the back-"

"Not quite." Martin interrupted. "I found this guy snooping about outside, says he needs your help."

A Turian appeared behind Martin. His scales were black with white paint, and the colors of his clothes looked familiar. "Do you remember me, Shepard?" He asked in the strange flanging voice of his race. "I am Septimus Oraka. Primarch Victus sent me."

"I thought you were retired, General." Shepard inquired. "How'd you end up on Earth?"

"When the final call came in, I felt that I needed to serve my people by fighting the Reapers." He said. "Your people know how to reward their allies, Shepard."

"Tell me about it." Shepard said wryly.

"I don't intend to." Septimus informed, not catching the tone or not understanding. "I intend you to see for yourself."

"What are you talking about?" Shepard didn't have time for any more detours. He had Cerberus to deal with while trying to give Brass the slip. Not to mention keeping an eye on their newest…friend.

"You've heard of these…consulates that the other races have been penned into." It wasn't a question. "They are little more than prison camps meant to keep us isolated and in one place. We don't get to step outside without twenty armed humans surrounding us. Even our food and water supply is maintained by your military."

"Your anger is understandable," Shepard tried to sound sympathetic, but he wasn't sure he pulled it off, what with the pain in his entire body. "If it's that bad for you Turians, I can only imagine how bad it is for the Krogans."

"Yes, well," Septimus did not sound too concerned for the Krogans. "Some aspects of the ordeal are less desirable than others."

"So, if you are so heavily watched, how did you get out?'

Septimus was silent for a moment. "We staged an escape attempt to cover my own escape."

"Dangerous." Shepard breathed. "The Alliance seems to have loose triggers these days."

Septimus seemed to convey worry. "I did hear shots, but I don't know where they came from."

Shepard decided to cut through the bull. "What did you want me to do about it?"

"Free us." Septimus said simply.

"Shepard." Martin jumped in. "We have already lost fourteen hours. Cerberus will be looking for their missing operative. We can't afford any more delays."

"The lad's got a point." Zaeed offered. "The bastards won't be sitting on their hands all day waiting for us. But it's your call, Shepard."

Jack decided to put in her two cents. "You know how much I want to stick it to Cerberus again, but I'm not fond of the Alliance." She looked at Septimus. "Don't much care for the Turians well being either." Septimus seemed to stiffen. "Whatever you decide, you better make it fast."

Shepard rubbed his eyes, feeling his recently subsided headache returning. He knew now why they had released him. Why hold him for information he may or may not give them, when they could let him go and dig himself a hole by trying to free the Turians. It was no doubt the reason Septimus had been able to get to him in the first place.

"Zaeed, do you still have that Blast-thing from before?" He asked.

"Burst? Sure, but –" Zaeed began.

"Will it make me able to run with this leg?" Shepard cut in.

"I think so, but I've got to warn you-"

"Hit me with it." Shepard ordered. Zaeed opened his mouth to continue speaking. "Now!" He yelled.

Zaeed sighed. "Fine. But don't cry to me when the headaches won't go away."

"I can deal with headaches." Shepard assured him. "I can't fight with my leg like it is."

"About time you manned-up, Shepard." Jack chimed in.

"Meachum must be a chess player." He groaned. "But I don't give a damn. He wants to trap me, I hope he likes the fallout." He turned to Septimus, ignoring Martins disapproving stance. "They're going to be expecting it, so we got to play into their hands. The more they think they have us over the barrel, the bigger advantage we'll have."

"It almost sounds like you have a plan." Jack smirked. "Now I know we're in deep shit."

"Never figured you for a chess player, Shepard." Zaeed sounded impressed.

"I'm not." Shepard said, gritting his teeth. "I prefer checkers."

**- - - - SIX HOURS LATER - - - -**

The five of them crouched behind a building that had been neglected in the rebuilding effort. It seemed that the areas around the consulates were not a priority to fix. The darkness made it difficult to determine how many soldiers they had to contend with, but Shepard figured the night helped his squad as much as it hindered them. Shepard's leg yelled at him under the added weight of his armor; an older version of the N7 armor that he had kept out of nostalgia.

"Are you sure the Burst will work?" Shepard asked, suddenly feeling less confident than he had.

"Sure thing, Shepard." Zaeed sounded comfortably confident. "It stores in your armor and you can self-inject it like Medi-gel, or adrenaline. Which is rather handy because Burst, like it's name implies, is short term. Be careful with how many times you use it, Burst-Addiction is a bitch."

"I was never one to consider the consequences to myself." He retorted. "Martin, how fast can you move?"

Martin still didn't like that they had put his mission on the back burner. "Fast enough to keep them distracted for the rest of you to sneak in."

"I don't intend on sneaking in." Shepard said. "Just get them out of the way of the doors. I don't want to kill any of them if we don't have to."

Jack couldn't resist. "Once a boy scout, always a boy scout."

"That goes triple for you, Jack. No deaths unless it's absolutely necessary."

"Yeah, yeah." Jack complied, annoyed. "You just have to take the fun out of everything."

"On my mark." Shepard whispered. Martin went into a sprinter's crouch. "Mark."

Shepard had to blink as Martin became a blur. Cries of panic came from the soldiers as Martin appeared among them. Two bodies went flying away. Gunfire. It wouldn't be long before someone gained their head and called for back-up. A supply vehicle flipped over and the soldiers scattered. Another went flying and the way was clear.

Taking a breath, Shepard activated the Burst. His vision went white and then everything came into focus. The air itself seemed to solidify and he could hear the steady rhythm of heartbeats, and realized it was Jack and Zaeed's hearts. Another breath and the world seemed to settle back into reality. He took a step, but there was no pain. He smiled.

"Let's go!" He ordered. They made a dash for the gates, weapons in hand designed to subdue rather than kill. They passed the soldiers Martin had dealt with. They groaned in pain, unable to get up from the ground, but did not seem mortally wounded. At the gate they pressed their backs against the building to either side and waited.

Martin appeared in a movement that was slightly less blurred to Shepard's vision than before. Something made Shepard look up, and he saw a figure peering over the roof of the consulate building. Martin jerked his head up just as the figure leaped off and plummeted toward them. The figure began to glow with biotic power and Martin cursed before doing the same.

"Get out!" Martin warned helplessly.

The figure hit the earth, fist first. Jack yelled and a barrier surrounded her and Zaeed. Shepard was left to feel the full impact of the biotic attack. A sound that eerily reminded Shepard of the Reapers weaponry. He didn't even feel the blow that blasted him off his feet. His vision went red, then black. Opening his eyes, he found himself thirty feet away. He felt a sharp pain in his chest and found his armor broken and caved in from the impact; pieces of the armor must have dug into his chest. Septimus seemed to be unconscious a couple feet away.

With a groan he got to his feet, noticing cracks in the ground spreading outward from the point of impact, where a small crater held a man in black and green armor. Martin was nowhere to be seen. Jack and Zaeed were getting to their feet, the biotic shield barely visible.

"Bastard!' Jack yelled, glowing and rushing at their attacker. Suddenly Martin was in front of her. "The fuck are you doing? Get out of the way!"

Martin's fist plowed into Jack's stomach and she had a moment of stunned surprise before she collapsed.

"Son of a bitch!" Zaeed pulled out his lethal gun and began firing at Martin. Martin placed up a biotic shield in a heartbeat. Zaeed kept firing but the shield didn't seem to be weakening.

Zaeed threw away his gun and pulled out a knife, leaping at Martin, death in his eyes. Martin was a blur again and with a slap of his hand the knife arched into the night sky and vanished. A punch to the gut and Zaeed was down beside Jack.

"My, my, such harsh treatment of friends." Martin's voice crackled from the man in black armor. "They are your friend's aren't they? So disgusting."

Martin turned to the black armored man with his voice. "So my suspicions were correct. They made another one. Do you know you are just a clone? A copy of a copy?"

"Is it necessary for a gun to know by whose hands it was created?" The clone retorted. "Or is it simply enough that it does what it was made to do?"

"If you're here for Shepard, you'll have to go through me." Martin warned. "I already left one clone behind as a corpse.'

The clone laughed. "So arrogant. I'm not here for Shepard, I'm here for you. The Cartographer wants you to come back home. We miss you, brother."

"I'm no longer affected by Cerberus lies."

"You are the liar." The clone accused. "You have lied to your friends, otherwise they would have killed rather than following you."

"Shut up!" Martin snapped.

"What would they think if they knew the truth of you?" The clone taunted. "Should I tell your beloved Shepard the truth?"

Martin rushed forward, a blur. The clone was prepared, he jumped aside and his foot released a trigger he must have been standing on. A bubble of energy enveloped Martin as he passed over it and he fell in a heap within the crater. The clone stepped over Martin and picked him up with one hand.

Shepard had been busy taking aim with his Paladin and took his chance to fire. The clone shifted, but not fast enough. The clones black helmet came free and revealed his face. Shepard hesitated. It was indeed Martin's face the clone had. Perfectly. He aimed another shot.

"Take careful consideration." The clone said with Martin's face and voice. "Either let me go with my prize, or shoot and antagonize me. I promise, if you antagonize me I will not let your friend's live."

Shepard didn't like the idea of letting the bastard go, but after the display of powers before him, he knew he could not kill this man; not here, not now. He dropped his gun. "I'll be coming to get him. Mark me." He promised.

The clone laughed again. "We count on it." The clone hoisted Martin's limp form onto his shoulder. He became a blur and was gone.

Shepard knew they didn't have a lot of time left. If they were going to help the Turians, it needed to happen now. He'd have to worry about Martin later. He rushed to Septimus who came to with a start.

"What happened, Shepard?" The former Turian general looked in awe at the crater.

"No time to talk about it." Shepard hurried, going to Jack and Zaeed. "Martin got kidnapped, we'll have to do this without him."

Zaeed and Jack came awake in a violent storm of curses and oaths of vengeance. It took some time to settle them down. The sound of the gate opening drew their attention. Shepard assumed the soldiers inside had undoubtedly heard the commotion and were coming out to investigate. Which is why he was taken aback by the sight of Turians. Well-armed Turians.

"Septimus, is that you?" A Turian asked, slowly taking in the whole scene. "I can't believe you let Shepard go through with a plan like this."

The two groups looked at each other in silent appraisal as the picture began to reveal itself.

"We've been played!" Zaeed yelled just as a ball of white energy hit him and laid him out.

"You went and pissed off the wrong bitch!" Jack screamed, biotic energy enveloping her.

Septimus appeared behind her and shot her in the back with a gun that discharged a white ball of energy. Whatever the weapon was it wasn't slowed down by biotic energy. Shepard turned his gun on Septimus, his betrayal leaving a sour taste. Three Turians surrounded him, all with that weapon that took out his squad.

"I'll kill you for this." Shepard promised Septimus.

The Turian shook his head as if disappointed. "I won't apologize for saving my people."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: If only Admiral Ackbar had been there, he would have let us all know!**

**What do the Turians have planned for Shepard and co.? Just how many Martin Clones are there? Is that truly what they are? Who / What the hell is the Cartographer? And what about General Meachum's counter-move? All we know for sure is Shepard is not going to like whatever ends up happening, and he's probably going to blow up a solar system again. ;)**

**Shepard is pining for Miranda. So sad. Seeing Jack and Zaeed maybe together has only impacted his feelings of loneliness. A soldier looks at life differently after the war is over and life keeps on keeping on. I'm trying my best to get him a fix for saving the day! But after saving the galaxy three times, will simply saving Earth be enough? :D **

**Forgot to publicly thank ****Patient131071**** for your review and input! So thank you! You're still the only reviewer, but the story is early yet. **

**To all you readers who are not reviewing: I shrug at you all. I SHRUG!**


	5. 05: Prison

**DISCLAIMER: Same as before. M for Language / Violence. **

**Read and Review at your discretion. Suggestions will be appreciated. Flames will be ignored. I promise nothing.**

* * *

**05: PRISON**

"You disappoint me, Number Thirteen." The grandfatherly tone in a thick southern drawl brought back memories of a cold indistinct room; needles and some green colored water that tasted of blood. The red lights were the worst, they denied your eyes the light they desired while toughing them with opaque illumination, the images they revealed lacking form and description.

His eyes opened to those red lights and he wanted to scream. Something was in his arm, a long cord extending from it. They had him drugged. They wanted him lucid, but not a threat. He was in a chair much like the kind found in the dentist offices he remembered from his childhood. He moved his arms and legs and found them secured to the chair.

_Not again! I will not be held here by them again! Used like an animal! I was free, I had been free!_ His mind reeled, going into panic. He began to jerk his arms and legs wildly, trying to break free. He wore himself out trying; the drugs doing their job in keeping his strength at bay.

"We had already sent Number Twelve when you escaped." The voice continued. Martin closed his eyes so tight they began to water. "You should not have killed him."

"My name is Martin Shelby!" He yelled, voice cracking.

Laughter. His laughter. "Is the truth so hard to accept?" His voice mocked in the red darkness.

"I remember!" Martin screamed. "I remember my childhood! I am not a clone!"

:"Such was our mistake with you." The southern voice returned. "We gave you those memories, hoping they would make you a more effective subject."

"What about the one I killed?" Martin grasped for holes in the story. "He had the same memories as I did."

"Yes, we had thought to fix the error in you with him." The voice answered casually. "Apparently, he was flawed as well. Perhaps for the same reasons. We will not be going down that road again."

"You're lying!" Martin denied. They had to be lying!

"The most convincing lies are the one's we tell ourselves." The southern voice sounded almost sorry. "Don't worry, Number Thirteen, we'll fix your error."

**- - - - INSIDE THE TURIAN CONSULATE - - - -**

No matter how hard Shepard buried his thumbs into his temples, the headache would not subside. The Burst had worn off after being taken prisoner, and in the hour that had lapsed, he wished he had a hangover.

"Gah!" He screamed in pain and frustration. The fire in his knee had come back from vacation with a vengeance. He had begged the Turian guards to give him his armor back, just so he could take the pain away. They ignored him. Turian guards were good at that.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Jack screamed back, only making my headache throb harder. "Give me a gun! I just need one bullet, that's all! I'll make all the pain go away!" Her vocal requests were met with just as fierce a wall of silence. Growling she tried to use her biotics, nothing happened.

"When will you give it a rest?" Zaeed complained. "Whatever they zapped us with must have sabotaged your implants. Either that or they have a fancy drug that does the same."

"How could we have been so fucking stupid?!" Jack raged. "This is all your fault Shepard, I knew we shouldn't have trusted that guy! And I never met a Turian I could trust."

"Garrus didn't seem too bad." Zaeed said coolly.

"He doesn't count!" Jack snarled.

"I don't know what the truth with Martin is." Shepard said through gritted teeth. "But I don't think we were wrong in trusting him. His knocking you out seemed to have been in your best interest."

"What the fuck would you know?" Jack kicked his injured leg in fury. "You got us into this!"

Suddenly Zaeed was there, grabbing her arm. She tried to punch him but he intercepted it and somehow twisted behind her, both her arms held by one hand. He pushed her against the wall, the elbow of his free arm pressing into her neck, keeping her head in place. She tried to kick at him with her heels, but he caught one boot with his own and pressed it against her other boot, locking her feet in place.

"Get the fuck off me, bastard!" She seethed.

"It's no use fighting," Zaeed replied calmly. "I can stay like this all night. Or you could settle down and go sit in the corner like a good girl."

"Fuck you!" She screamed, trying to shake him off her, but her movement was too restricted.

"Come now, how many times do we have to do this routine?" He sounded amused.

"And how many times did I throw you on your ass with my biotics?" Jack snapped back.

"Yeah, but now you can't, so just give it up."

It took a bit of time, but Jack relaxed and Zaeed let her go. She growled and rubbed her shoulder, but went to the opposite wall and leaned against it, arms folded, a permanent scowl on her face.

"So that's how you guys do it, huh?' Shepard ventured, wincing at his head.

"Funny Shepard." Zaeed did not sound humored. "Nothing so provocative. A business relationship like ours sometimes requires…forced cooperation. But enough about that, do you have a plan out of here?"

"Actually, I do." Shepard stated.

"Oh, yeah?" Zaeed was not optimistic.

"We do what they say until we find an opening." Shepard revealed with masterful presentation. For some reason Zaeed still didn't seem very optimistic.

**- - - - UNKNOWN LOCATION - - - -**

The drugs they had given him were making it hard to recall the details of his memories. He remembered fighting in the Reaper Wars but he could no longer see the faces of his enemies, nor his allies. A Krogan? No, he had never worked with a Krogan had he? The name of the Asari was…Teslia? No, that was wrong. His family had been simple colonists on…Mindoir? No, that had been one of his stations as a Marine. Hadn't he been a Marine?

The red room threatened to rob him of his identity, and he refused to let that happen. He tried to break his bonds again, but his bindings were as strong as ever. How long had it been? Hours? Days? He had lost track trying to keep his mind from losing everything. A name jumped out at him and he grabbed hold of it.

Erin Shelby.

A sister? His mother? He wasn't married was he? The fog of his mind was undiluted and seemed to only thicken. He had to remember that name. What name? His name was Martin Shelby. Martin Shelby. Martin. Martin. Martin!

"Are you beginning to see the truth of the lies you have told yourself?" The southern voice had been gone for a long time, or perhaps not.

"I am…Martin…I…" His voice faltered, he could barely think from the way the shadows moved about him.

"You are Number Thirteen!" The voice had lost its grandfatherly tone.

"I am…not…"

"You will see." The voice promised. "You will see soon enough the error of your ways. If you don't I will be forced to neutralize you. The deadline is approaching and we mustn't have any more errors."

"No…more…errors…" He whispered back.

"I'm afraid you leave me no choice." The voice sighed. "Dr. Raines, begin the operation."

The shadows moved and voiced hummed indistinct. Something began pressing against his skull. And then the true horror began.

**- - - - INSIDE THE TURIAN CONSULATE - - - -**

When the Turians came, they did it with those strange new guns. Without any warning they shot both Jack and Zaeed. Shepard struggled to rise, but a barrel was placed against his head. He held out his hands.

"What the hell's going on?" He demanded.

"The Primarch wants to speak to you." The one with the gun to his head answered. He gestured and two others grabbed Shepard by either arm and pulled him up, nearly dragging him out of the room.

The Primarch was in a rather plain room with two heavy armed guards at the door. Shepard and his escort were let in and he was dumped unceremoniously to the floor. The door was closed and the escort who had been calling the shots before remained inside. Shepard grunted his way to the wall, where he was finally able to make it to his feet, using the wall to lean on.

Adrien Victus looked the same as he had the last time Shepard saw him, which wasn't any surprise. Turians didn't seem to change all that much from year to year. Maybe their horns grew longer?

"I wanted to apologize for the necessity of our situation." Victus said as a prelude. "We only recently took control of this facility and we needed to act fast before your military opted for a…nuclear tactic."

"Yeah, no problem." Shepard spat angrily. "This happens all the time between allies."

"Don't level such accusations towards me, Shepard." Victus warned. "We both know it was your people who betrayed our peace first."

"So what is your plan here, Victus?" Shepard asked. "You plan on hanging me from the roof so the military has a clearer target?"

Victus seemed to ponder over the implication. "I fail to see the rationale behind such a maneuver."

God, Shepard wished Garrus was there.

"What do you want with me, Victus?" Shepard restated.

Victus sighed. "I knew that your military would seek to shut us down as soon as we gained control here, but we needed something that would give them pause to strike." He gave Shepard a piercing stare. "We needed you Shepard, because with you here they would not dare attack unless they had no other option. In fact, they would strengthen their position here and hope you'd find a way out."

"What good would that do? You're boxed in anyway?"

"Think about it Shepard." Victus berated.

So he did, and he spoke his thoughts aloud. "You're boxed in here with the entire military focus upon you and…" He stopped, figuring it out. "…and not upon the other Consulates."

"Precisely." Vicuts nodded his head.

In contrast, Shepard shook his head. "You want to allow the other races to gain control of their prisons as well. Do you know what the hell you're doing?'

"I'm saving my people." Victus stated firmly.

"Even if your plan works that far, the military will still be here." Shepard urged for understanding. "Regardless of the outcome, your people will die!"

"Perhaps." Victus conceded. "But that is the price each and every one of my people has agreed is acceptable. Better death in seeking freedom, than life forever enslaved."

"You're not slaves." Shepard cut back.

"Not yet, but that will be next if we do not do something now."

Shepard didn't want to believe what he was hearing. "Let's say you succeed and overthrow the humans, what will you do? Would you become the same thing and rule over this world with military force?"

"If we cannot return to our home world, we must make Earth our home. If we must subdue the human race, than we will."

"It wouldn't work! Humans stand together, just like you Turians do." Shepard explained. "We won't stand for an alien rule."

"That is possible." Victus sounded regretful. "If such a path must be taken, we would be forced to neutralize the threat."

"You mean exterminate the humans." Shepard translated.

"It is not a welcome outcome, but one that must be planned for." Victus reasoned.

"You're talking about genocide!" Shepard yelled.

"You made much the same decision to halt the Reaper advance." Victus shot back. "You were rightly accused of genocide and you accepted it. Because the soldier in you knew the risks of not taking that action. I was a soldier before I was a Primarch, and I will not hesitate to make the same decision to save my people." He glared at Shepard. "You wouldn't either."

The words seem to deflate Shepard. What could he say? "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because of my son." Victus whispered. "Because after everything you sacrificed I believe…what is the Human phrase? You deserve me to be straight with you."

"So I'm just the perfect bait, huh?" Shepard shook his head in disbelief. "I'm able to draw them in and keep them at bay."

"So we hope." Victus agreed, nodding to the guard who pulled Shepard from the wall to take him back to his cell.

"I can't hope that you succeed." Shepard told the Primarch. "But I hope you don't fail."

**- - - - OUTSIDE THE TURIAN CONSULATE - - - -**

General Ike Meachum had not anticipated Shepard would leave such devastation in his wake. It was divine intervention that none of his soldiers had died in the assault. He had received mixed reports from the recovering marines of what had transpired. Mostly it was nonsense about a single attacker appearing and disappearing like a ghost. Obviously Shepard had used some means of cloaking his movements, and those of his squad.

By now Shepard had to know that the Turian Consulate was surrounded. There was no hope for victory. So then, what has he doing? How would he try to salvage the situation? Meachum wanted to level the entire area, bury them all. He didn't care what happened to the Turians, but his higher ups were hesitant to eliminate such a potential pool of knowledge. Meachum would have gone in already if General Tanner hadn't tagged along to make sure things went smoothly.

"Tell me, Pearce," Meachum called to the other General. "If you were Shepard, what would you do?"

Pearce Tanner had been born on a colony planet. He had apparently served the Alliance faithfully and diligently, but as far as Meachum was concerned, he was a half-blood. Towards the end, it had been harder and harder to get decent full-blooded Marines, born and raised on Earth. If anything good had come from the Reaper Invasion, it had been the dismantling of the Mass Relays. Earth was their home, and it was where they belonged.

"If it is one thing I've learned from Shepard," Tanner said, almost proudly. "It's that no one can anticipate what he will do."

"I've done a fair enough job of that so far." Meachum stated. Tanner was too much like Hackett for Meachum's liking. Hackett should not have been leading the fight against the Reapers; he had led them to disaster. Well, now it was Meachum's time to shine. He would take Shepard as a confirmed traitor. A little nudge was all it would take and he could wipe out the Turians without reprimand. They would need him to take control in order to stop the riots in the other Alien Consulates. They needed him to take control, they just needed the white flag removed from their eyes to see it.

"Carver." Meachum called to a corporal. "Send word through the channels. All non-essential military personnel to Sector 5. We need immediate reinforcements at the Turian Consulate."

"Aye, Sir!" the corporal rushed out of the tent.

"What the hell are you doing, Meachum?" Tanner squawked, taking Meachum by the shoulder. "You'll leave the other Consulates under-manned! You could be instigating a full-scale rebellion!"

Meachum plunged the knife into Tanner's exposed neck. Blood began pouring from the wound, twisting around Meachums hand and soaking his coat sleeve. "Your weakness would have killed us all!" He shouted into Tanner's face before pulling the knife out and letting the corpse fall.

Walking over to a water basin, he began scrubbing the blood from his skin and clothes. Drying them, he walked back over to his desk, where sat the map of Section 5. He stepped over the corpse and studied the map in detail. He had every available exit covered.

"Checkmate, Shepard."

- - - - **UNKNOWN LOCATION - - - -**

Number Thirteen stood ready for inspection. He remembered going rogue and trying to stop Cerberus, but he didn't know why he did it. He didn't care, either. A weapon didn't concern itself with previous malfunctions. He identified the man in the grey lab coat as the Cartographer; the reason for his existence. He would have called him father, except that weapons did not concern themselves with such trivial connections.

"What is you name?' The Cartographer's southern drawl was oddly soothing.

"I am Number Thirteen." Thirteen replied.

"Good." The Cartographer smiled. "Do you hold any memories of your past?'

"A weapon does not remember." Thirteen chanted. "A weapon does what its creator demands of it."

"Is that all you are, Number Thirteen?" The Cartographer asked. "Are you just a weapon?"

"Yes, Sir!" Thirteen barked.

"Kill Dr. Raines." The Cartographer ordered.

"What?" Raines squeaked in surprise, looking up from his clipboard.

Thirteen stepped forward and grabbed the man by the neck. Raines beat at his arm with his hands and kicked at his legs with his feet, but Thirteen felt nothing. With a twist of the wrist Thirteen fulfilled his orders and dropped the corpse to the floor.

"Mission accomplished, Sir!" Thirteen announced.

The Cartographer seemed to consider the corpse for a moment before nodding. "Nicely done, Thirteen. However, I am not fully convinced." He signaled and the one he recognized as Number Twelve entered the room. "Thirteen, do not fight back. Twelve, kill Thirteen."

Twelve strode forward and grabbed Thirteen in the same grip he had used to kill Raines. Thirteen did not fight back, did not struggle. If the Cartographer wanted him dead, it was his duty to let it happen. His vision began to fade, and all he could feel was…satisfaction.

"Number Twelve, release Number Thirteen."

The grip disappeared and Thirteen began sucking in lungs of air. As the room came back into focus, he saw the Cartographer was very pleased with him. He didn't feel happy at the thought. Happiness was a trivial emotion that had no place inside a weapon. He did feel satisfaction, however. That was all a weapon should feel, because there was no excuse why a weapon should fail.

"Your error has been erased," The Cartographer drawled. "And that is a very fortunate thing for us. However, you error has given us a play. You managed to gain the trust of Shepard." The Cartographer began pacing, hands fiddling behind his back. "Project Hydra is almost ready, all the pieces have been set in place. All we need now is Shepard. You will give us Shepard, Number Thirteen."

Number Thirteen listened to the plan. A weapon needed to know its purpose.

**- - - - INSIDE THE TURIAN CONSULATE - - - -**

When Jack and Zaeed awoke, Shepard told them everything. He was so furious, so filled with the despair of the situation, he couldn't have held back any information if he had wanted to. Their reactions were far different than he would have expected. Zaeed raged, spitting piss and vinegar at the new lows the Turians would fall to. Jack was silent, just huddling up in a corner.

"What's the matter with you Jack?" Shepard said, less sensitive than he should have been. Zaeed turned to her, noticing her reaction for the first time.

"I just think," Jack whispered. "Maybe it's about fucking time." The harsh words did not fit in that quaking voice.

Shepard shuffled over to Jack, telling his knee to fuck off for the moment. He half-fell half-knelt beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Listen to me, Jack. There might be an end to humanity, hell this might be it. But don't think for a second we'll sit back and watch it happen."

A sudden explosion rocked the room. Shepard fell backward, unable to find his balance. Zaeed almost fell on top of him before gaining control of himself. Turian commands and gunfire sounded from beyond the door. Jack was up in an instant, eyes blazing with anger at being seen in a state of weakness.

"Get off your ass, Shepard." Jack growled. "I think our ticket out of here just arrived."

"What are you talking about?" Zaeed demanded.

The door was pulled off its hinges and in strode a man they thought they'd never see again. Martin Shelby, in full body armor and weapon accessories. Shepard was too surprised to say anything at first. Martin didn't waste any time, but hurried over and hoisted Shepard to his feet and then onto his shoulder, carrying him like a fallen soldier, which he supposed he was. The three hurried out of the room, Jack and Zaeed ready for trouble, but Martin simply running. Shepard noted that as he ran, he did not use his super speed, he allowed the other two to keep up. Then Shepard saw the bodies.

"What the hell did you do?" He demanded in sickening awe.

When Martin spoke, his voice sounded oddly emotionless. "I did what was needed."

They left the Turian Consulate burning behind them, the corpses of hundreds feeding the flames; all the result of one man.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: For those of you that have been biting their nails waiting for this chapter, I apologize for the semi-long wait. Maybe it wasn't long for you, but it was for me. This chapter went through three revisions before it felt right.**

**The first time I introduce non-Shepard POV. I doubt they will become frequent, but I felt I owed it to myself at least to address the Cerberus issue a bit. Still not a lot of information, but plenty of foreshadowing.**

**Meachum started as a throw-away name, because I needed a name for one of Major Coat's superiors, but I think he'll make a good adversary.**

**Martin Shelby AKA Number Thirteen? Clones? N8 Program? Erin Shelby? What was true, and what was a lie? And what exactly is Project Hydra? **

**A southern drawl just sounds so great in a villain! XD**

**With every answer there are only more questions! Hope faithful readers stick around to find out!**


	6. 06: Collision

**DISCLAIMER: Same as before. M for Language / Violence. **

**Read and Review at your discretion. Suggestions will be appreciated. Flames will be ignored. I promise nothing.**

* * *

**06: COLLISION**

Once outside the gates of the burning consulate, any semblance of a plan quickly vanished. The vast force of military personnel before them was simply jaw dropping. Martin had set Shepard down to remove the burden. Shepard was surprised to see his armor fall to the ground next to him. Had Martin been carrying it the whole time? When had he retrieved it? Admittedly, he had been focused on the death and destruction behind them, and not so much in Martin's burden. Shepard shook his head and brought his attention back to the mass of Alliance Marines.

"How did you manage to get inside without dealing with them first?" Shepard demanded of Martin.

Martin did not respond, instead he blurred forward and began dismantling the heavy formations of the military. Whatever drugs had cut Jack off from her biotics must have worn off because she brought up a barrier just as bullets rained down upon them. The main hailstorm of bullets was quickly drawn away, but the occasional shot kept Jacks barrier up.

Shepard could not help but notice the contrast in how Martin had dealt with the soldiers the night before and how he dealt with them now. Before he had hit hard and fast, subduing the guards, but leaving them alive. Now he tore into them with the abandon of a enraged thresher maw. Bodies flew, most missing one or more limbs. Even Jack and Zaeed were taken aback by the wanton massacre.

And despite the sickness in his gut at seeing the Alliance Military torn apart so thoroughly, Shepard could not help but feel awed at the spectacle; Martin was a quintessential one-man army. The thought brought a shiver down his spine. They had apparently had a run in with two clones of Martin that had displayed similar if not equal ability. How many more could there be? Tens? Hundreds? The implications of such a possibility were mind shattering. If Cerberus had succeeded in creating an army of ultimate warriors… There would be no resistance. You can't resist a tidal wave. And that is what the prospect of the Martin Shelby clone army was: A natural disaster. Possibly on a global scale.

No. If Cerberus had succeeded in such an army, they would have struck already. It all began to take shape in Shepards mind. Cerberus sent a clone to kill him because he had a history of foiling Cerberus plots. But the real Martin Shelby escaped and saved him to put a stop to Cerberus. They send a second clone to pick up Martin so that they can continue making more clones. Martin escapes again and rescues Shepard and company.

No, something was not fitting into the equation. How had Martin known to rescue them? Had Cerberus known of the Turians intentions? Did Martin hear about it from them? Then why was he killing with abandon? Everything about the situation screamed a trap. What if this wasn't the real Martin Shelby? What if this was a clone sent to march them joyfully into the claws of Cerberus? Shepard didn't want to believe it, but that scenario was making much more sense to him the more he watched Martin.

"Jack, Zaeed," Shepard barked. "I don't think that's the same Martin Shelby that saved our lives."

"No shit, Shepard." Jack hissed.

"How do you want to play it, Shepard?" Zaeed asked.

Shepard thought, his eyes trying to burn a hole into the back of who he was now convinced was a clone. "Any trap he leads us to will most likely be in Cerberus hands, which is where we want to be. We have to be in their hands so that we can cut them off."

**- - - - ONE HOUR LATER - - - -**

Major Malcolm Coats Jr. could not believe that Shepard was behind the massacre and destruction at the Turian Consulate. Eighty-three Marines had been torn apart, another thirty were in intensive care. The surviving Turians had numbered around twenty; no one had sought a full consensus. Primarch Victus had survived, and that was all General Meachum wanted to know. They had found an older version of Shepards N7 armor in the burning consulate. What did that mean? Did Shepard switch armor? Had the Turians acquired it from him somehow? Why? Coats wanted nothing more than to have a chat with the Turian Primarch, but the Turians had all been moved to a new top secret location above his clearance level.

The crisis at the other consulates paled in comparison to the one here, but Meachum would still have to answer for pulling soldiers away from those locations to focus here, allowing the aliens to overpower their guards like the Turians had. Surprisingly only the Krogans did not resist. Coats would have thought them planning something, but Krogans were not known for their strategic minds. Had the brutes been cowed by the superior force of humans? Coats doubted it; Krogans were not ones to be cowed.

Rubbing his sleepless eyes, Coats made his way to the command tent where Meachum was preparing his next brilliant scheme. Coats studied his superior officer with distaste. Meachum was tall, standing around 6'4". He short dark hair whose once proud hairline had begun to recede. He was square and stiff, and looked a little too much like an antique G. I. Joe figure. And his blue eyes were cold, merciless. Shepard may never know that Coats had saved his life by being the one in charge of the interrogation – a position he had all but demanded of Meachum. The General would have killed Shepard and blamed it on failed interrogation. Instead, Coats had given the General time to come up with a plan involving a living Shepard. He couldn't say a damn thing to Shepard thanks to the good General watching and listening to the whole thing. Perhaps one day Shepard would know, and understand.

"What the hell are you doing just standing in the doorway?" Meachum demanded without turning. "Get in here and sit your ass down, Coats." His tone was jovial and relaxed, but Coats knew better than to trust in it.

"Sorry, Sir." Coats replied sharply, keeping it professional. "I was but waiting permission to enter."

"Permission granted." Meachum smiled, still trying to put on an air of ease. "Would you like a scotch? I think I have single malt buried in here somewhere."

"No thank you, Sir."

"What a mess out there." Meachum intoned, pouring himself a glass of scotch and throwing it back. "I knew Shepard was a traitor."

It was at those freely given words that Coats recognized what felt so wrong about this situation. "Sir, where is General Tanner?"

He did not know how to read Meachum's reaction. He pursed his lips and nodded his head ever so slightly, perhaps unconsciously. Then he blinked and looked directly into Coats eyes, face breaking into a wide off-putting grin. "I must have been thinking too hard on how to salvage this situation. What did you say?"

Coats felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Pearce Tanner had been the Marine's equivalent of Admiral Hackett. At least in concerning Shepard. Tanner had even contemplated having an Asari wife, the chance of offspring greater with an Asari due to his advanced age. Tanner would never have let Meachum do what he had done. Not if he yet lived.

Coats cut off that line of thought before it went too far. He couldn't assume Tanner was dead, nut until he found out more information. Perhaps he had been called away before he could stop this mess from happening. It was a more plausible – or at least more a more comfortable thought that the latter.

He became aware that Meachum's smile had turned into a frown waiting for his response. "I simply wondered at the location of General Tanner."

Meachum shrugged, still frowning at Coats. "He was called away. He didn't give me any details and I didn't ask for them." He maneuvered his body so that he was looking down at Coats from five feet away. "He was my superior officer, you understand."

The threat was loud and clear.

**- - - - HOURS LATER AT ZAEED'S PRIVATE DEPOT - - - -**

The Manta 3000 was a newer model than the confiscated Falcon Mk. II. Martin had supposedly stolen it from Cerberus when he escaped last. At jibes about him being slower than a manta ray, he claimed that even his enhanced speed and endurance had its limits. That made them all silently contemplate what those limits might be. Shepard was cut from his own ponderings when Zaeed told Martin to set the bird down. Shepard remained in the shuttle with Martin while Zaeed and Jack went to restock in meds, ammo, and whatever else they had. Shepard decided it was time to grill the Maybe-Clone.

"What happened with the clone that took you?"

Martin didn't have an outward reaction to the words. "I killed him."

"Like you killed the first one?" Shepard pressed.

"You killed that one." Martin replied.

"Oh yeah." Shepard frowned. "But the second one seemed much better prepared for you. How did you get him?"

Martin turned towards him, still with that damned helmet on so Shepard couldn't see his face.

"What are you implying?"

Shepard thought for a moment. Jack and Zaeed were gone, it was just him and his bad knee for support. He gritted his teeth. Fuck subtlety.

"Take off your helmet." Shepard ordered.

"What?" Martin asked, surprise only in his voice.

"I hate talking to a visor; take the fucking thing off right now." Anger heated his voice.

Martin stayed silent and still. Shepard thought he might have triggered some kind of psychological state of self defense. Then Martin reached a hand up and pushed a button on the side of his helmet. There was the sound of decompressing air and then he lifted it off his head and revealed the face that had saved his life; the face that had tried to end it. He peered into the eyes, searching for something; emptiness, the tale-tale sign of mental manipulation. The green eyes were just as green as he had remembered. The faded scar under his right eye was there too, the badge of a long forgotten battle. Nothing in his face and eyes told him that this was not the same Martin Shelby they had met before. But then, clones were supposed to be identical, weren't they? How would he really know?

Shepard punched him on the mouth. Martin fell backward into the shuttle door, caught off guard by the sudden brutality. Shepard knew how he must have felt. Martin sat back up in his seat, an unfamiliar shadow crossed his eyes and Shepard thought the man would reach over and snap his neck. The shadow was gone just as it had appeared and Martin touched his broken lip softly.

"From now on, if you're going to go into a killing frenzy you'll do it on my orders." Shepard kept his voice level and commanding. "If you go off all berserker on us like you did at the consulate, the next time will be a bullet instead of my fist. Understood?"

"Understood." Martin replied, turning from Shepard and replacing his helmet.

Jack and Zaeed returned then with some boxes of supplies. Zaeed passed over a cartridge of Burst and Shepard placed it into the slot in his armors leg, ready to be injected.

"Anything fun happen between you two while we were gone?" Jack attempted at a verbal flaying contest.

"Not a damn thing." Shepard said, and unspoken warning in his tone. "Take us to your Cerberus compound, Martin." Take us to your trap.

**- - - - AT THE FORMER TURIAN CONSULATE - - - -**

"When did you last see General Tanner?" Coats inquired of the young Corporal. He had questioned twelve soldiers who had been around Meachum's tent when Tanner had supposedly left. The answers had all been the same. They had seen Tanner with Meachum, but could not recall him leaving the tent. But with the destructive escape by Shepard, they had had their attention directed elsewhere, and it was possible the General left at that time.

But the time didn't make sense to Coats. If Shepard's escape had happened before Tanner had left, or even during Tanner's leave, the General would have stayed to find out what was going on and probably would not have left at all. No, there was something else going on, and Coats felt the truth of it in his gut. Still, he couldn't bring such accusations to light unless he had definitive proof. As a Major, he wouldn't have much standing against a General even with damning evidence.

"I saw General Tanner in the tent with General Meachum." Corporal Carver answered slightly hesitant. They had all been a little unnerved by the seriousness of Coats inquiry. "General Meachum sent me to deliver orders to the other stations and I did."

"And after you delivered the orders, what did you do?" Coats pressed.

He frowned. "I returned directly to General Meachum to inform him his orders had been carried out."

"Was General Tanner still there?"

"No, Sir."

Coats straightened. "Was this before Shepard escaped?"

"I believe so, Sir." Corporal Carver said with a nod. "At least, I didn't hear of it until I had been sent to Colonel Shen's post for a status update."

"How long did it take you to carry out the first orders?"

"About a half hour between leaving the General's tent and returning to it, Sir."

Coats dismissed the soldier and began puzzling out this new information. Now he had a timeframe to go off of. There was still no conclusive evidence, and indeed the Corporal's story seemed to make Meachum's story more plausible, unless he took into consideration all the other accounts with no memory of Tanner's departure. It seemed as if Tanner had simply vanished; a technique that high ranking Generals of the Alliance Military were not in the habit of perfuming.

His thoughts began to turn to his father, as they tended to at such times of uncertainty. Malcolm Coats Sr. had been a boulder in the midst of rapid waters; unmoving in his sense of duty and honor. He had sacrificed everything for his family, eventually losing both legs trying to defend a human colony from Batarian raiders. Even then he had not given up; he had pushed forward, becoming a more political figure in the Military and had even been proposed to be the Alliance Ambassador at the Galactic Council, losing out to Udina due to - as his father had put it - greasy pockets. He had died as he deserved: Peacefully in his bed at home before the Reaper War. Coats hoped he'd get half that chance.

He made his way back to Meachum's tent. The General was in full swing as tactical commander and bodies were moving in and out at regular intervals, fulfilling orders or briefing him on situational developments. Coats didn't think it was time to confront Meachum on the whereabouts of Tanner, but wanted to gauge his reaction to the news that Coats had been investigating. If he could find certain footing in his theory, he could delve head first into the investigation. As it was so far, he was unsure of the direction he should take. He was not one to easily let his affiliation towards another decide his course of action.

He was about to announce his presence when a soldier bustled in behind him and went directly to the command table. Coats noted the shift in attitude from before as Meachum looked up harshly, ready to berate the woman, but she spoke first.

"General Meachum, Sir, we've got a location on Shepard."

Meachum's glower turned into a smile of satisfaction. "I knew we would. Send the Bravo Squad to retrieve him." He thought a moment. "Best send the Tango Squad as back-up."

"Tango Squad." Coats chimed in without thinking. "Isn't that the team Maddox Vega commands?"

Meachum glared at Coats but didn't call out his side-stepping formal protocol. "I suppose it is, Major. Why?"

"If I may say so, Sir, I think it would be counter-productive to send the man after Shepard knowing his predilection towards the man he views responsible for his cousin's disappearance."

Meachum stood up straight, not taking too kindly to being questioned in his own command tent. By a Major no less. "You think so, do you? Well I don't." He looked back down to his maps. "I think Vega is just the man to send after Shepard. No more coddling the traitor."

Coats took a deep breath. "Send me in as well, Sir." He asked.

"Meachum eyed him. "Why?"

"We don't want Shepard dead, do we Sir?"

Meachum thought about that but didn't give a response.

"Put me in charge of the team and I will see to it that there are no accidents." Coats urged.

Meachum seemed about to shake his head but he noticed the room was filled with soldiers, all who had been in the midst of various tasks, but now stood still, waiting. He sighed. "Very well, Major. You are in temporary command of this unit. Reign in any unnecessary aggression." He looked as if he had swallowed a sour grape.

"Yes Sir." Coats couldn't keep the relieve from his voice. The men and women around them went back to their duties.

Meachum resumed his position over the maps. "Dismissed."

- - - - **AT AN UNKNOWN CERBERUS FACILITY - - - -**

The building was small, too small to house a secret base of operations for an underground terrorist organization that was supposed to be dismantled. It looked about the size of a gas stations from before the discovery of the Prothean technology on Mars. Some of those buildigs had still been around in the undeveloped locations of Earth. Shepard had even hid out in one for a night as a kid. The buildings were similar in size, not in design. The one before him now was more uniform, less identifiable. Easily overlooked.

"Are you sure this is it?' He asked Martin. They had remained quiet the entire trip there.

"This is the place." Martin assured. "After I freed myself I stole a keycard to hack into their information database. I wanted to find out what they were doing. The information was mostly encrypted, but I did find this address in a message to the Cartographer, indicating that the operation was seeing progress."

Shepard just stared at him. It was the longest he had heard him talk since the rescue.

"What are we waiting for?" Jack demanded. "Let's smash some Cerberus skulls!"

"We go in fast, but quiet." Shepard explained. "Take out any opposition without raising any alarms. I don't want these bastards knowing we're there until the feel the bullet in their brain." He gave Martin a warning glance, reminding him of their earlier conversation. Martin nodded and Shepard sighed.

Shepard had voiced his thoughts about Martin taking out most of the foot soldiers on his own, but Martin had reaffirmed his claim that his abilities were limited and he should save them for a clone if one showed up. Shepard had to agree with the logic, but was aware of the possible truth behind it: If Martin was leading them into a trap, he would not want to help them more than necessary to get them into position.

It was somewhat new territory for Shepard. He had never truly gone into a ground mission with trust issues for one of his squad members. In that position you had to trust everyone to have your back or the entire mission would be compromised by incompetence. But Martin served to pose a greater threat than any ally Shepard had been personally involved with. He didn't know if he was doing the right thing, but at the least he knew he had Jack and Zaeed to watch his back. And they would all be watching Martin. Shepard no longer had his Paladin, but the Striker would serve as well if he was close enough. A headshot seemed to be the best bet when dealing with these super-soldiers.

The door seemed to be simple enough, sliding open without alarm. They moved in, weapons ready, searching for any sign of the enemy. Nothing. They were only in the entrance, and Shepard could see three doors and some large storage crates in the center, but he felt a warning prickle in his neck that something was wrong. He eyed Martin, but he gave no indication of his thoughts. Shepard signaled and they all moved forward, crouched and stepping softly. They approached one door and found it locked shut. Good. That indicated that someone had locked it.

They surveyed the other doors and found another one to be locked, but the one in the far right corner was not. With two to either side of the door, backs against the wall Shepard nodded and Zaeed opened it. They rushed inside in much the same fashion as before, only this time they found three soldiers in a green and white version of the old white, black and yellow armor generally associated with Cerberus. They were facing their backs toward Shepard's team and were occupied with some kind of argument.

"I already told you, they don't tell me anything these days." The left soldier grumbled.

"Goddamn, did you lodge your balls up into your womb, or something?" The middle soldier jibed.

"Hey," the first soldier defended himself, "You know how it is around here. They point, you run."

"But the pay is worth it, eh?" The one on the right butt in, a woman.

"Damn right it is." The middle one agreed. "If it wasn't for the money I'd have left them to fuck themselves years ago."

That was a curious comment. Shepard wondered if the soldier meant he had been part of the Illusive Man's Cerberus at the end, or if this new Cerberus had been around since before the Reaper War. He had assumed that this new Cerberus was an attempt at rebuilding what had been lost, but what if it had been a separate and distinct order of Cerberus that had been working in synch, if not in junction with the Illusive Man? He found it hard to believe that an unknown entity of Cerberus had been around the entire time and not had any light shed on it. But what if the point of the Illusive Man had been exactly that; to direct attention? Was this Cartographer the true brains behind Cerberus, leaving the Illusive Man and his projects as a front? It was a rather frightening possibility with profound repercussions.

Jack caught his eye. She was impatient, gesturing toward the guards. Maybe he was reading too much into the words what amounted to hired guns. He nodded at Jack and she lit up with biotic energy and threw a bomb directly underneath the middle soldier. A wave of light blue enveloped the three soldiers and they cried out in surprise as gravity betrayed them. They began to rise, floating softly within that semi-visible sphere of anti-gravity. Zaeed shot his muzzled pistol three times, the soldiers confused voices went silent. The field dispersed and the bodies fell to the floor in a heap.

They continued on, checking the bodies and found an access key on the center guard. Shepard did not blink at the death of these soldiers like he had at the consulate. These were enemies, unquestionable. The Turians and Alliance soldiers had been an obstacle, but not a life or death threat at the time. If it had come down to it, Shepard would have dug in and try to cut an opening with his gun, but that hadn't been a necessary action yet.

Moving in silent formation they used the card on the next door that opened into a small office. A man in a white and green lab coat sat at a desk putting information into a computer. He was facing them, but was too focused on his work to look up at them.

"I told you before, Arnold, I will not try to guess the tattoo on Felicia's inner thigh!" The labcoat snarled ritually. "I have important work to do, so leave."

Shepard stood tall and leveled his gun at the scientist. "Jack, would you mind taking a look at the girls inner thigh for me?" He called out, making the scientist jump and look up in surprised fright.

"Very cute, Shepard." Jack denied, making Shepard smile slightly.

"Who the hell are you?" The scientist squeaked.

Shepard glanced at the name on the desk. "Dr. Raines I presume?"

The man shook his head. "I'm Dr. Kennewick, Dr. Raines was my predecessor." He seemed to be regaining some form of composure. Shepard was impressed.

"Well, Ken, what we're going to need you to do is tell us everything you know about what's going on around here." Shepard said condescendingly.

Suddenly a gun was in Kennewick's hand and he aimed at Shepard steadily. Shepard mentally cursed his complacency and pulled his trigger, filling the man with four shots before he could let off one. The gun did go off, but it missed anyone by three feet. The gun fell out of limp fingers and the man gasped in pain before dying.

Shepard rushed over and searched the scientist. He found ammo packs and battle meds. The man had been a soldier disguised as a scientist. A trap. He made himself refrain from looking at Martin and decided not to voice his findings, instead looking to the computer. Some kind of game involving a grid and different colored dots was on the screen.

"Bastard." Shepard breathed, exiting and beginning to search the database. He was not the best with computers, but he wasn't completely lost on them either. He found a series of messages sent between two parties. They were not identified by names, but numbers; random numbers. The messages seemed to be a lot of unintelligible characters. Perhaps it was encoded, but Shepard had never seen such a format.

"I won't get any answers here. Zaeed, Jack, do you recognize this?" He purposefully left Martin out. He didn't trust him, and could not trust and translation he gave. It was fruitless in any case as the other two were similarly stumped.

"We'll have to go back the way we came." Shepard said. "Maybe this card opens one of the other doors."

It opened the first of the doors which lead them to a stairway leading down. They followed it, staying close and quiet. They came to a rather wide open room that seemed too empty. Shepard noticed more stairs. How large was this facility? As they moved their caution began to erode. Shepard was rather disappointed in the vacancy, but the soldiers presence above seemed to indicate their were guarding something. Unless it had all been a façade for his benefit.

As they passed a window set into the wall something caught his eye. He peered inside and froze. It was a medical lab with three patients. Shepard could identify an Asari and a Turian, but the angle and distance made the third form vague.

"Well, that is certainly something." Zaeed spoke Shepard's thoughts.

They found the door and it opened. Regaining their caution, but moving quickly they traversed an unremarkable hall before entering the room they had seen. As he approached the three tables with their patients, he saw that the Asari was bloodstained. A quick check confirmed she was dead. He noted the third figure and was surprised that it was a Drell. Images of Thane Krios flashed through his head.

Thane had been a skilled assassin who had found religion. He had been dying of a slow acting disease and searching for his lost son when Shepard met him. Shepard had helped him find his son and had formed a bond with Thane only truly comparable to that of Garrus Vakarian. His death at the hands of Kai Leng still tugged at his gut. The unknown Drell looked a lot like Thane, but a much paler green, or maybe that was just an effect of death. The memories only fueled the fire within Shepard. How many victims would Cerberus add to their butcher's bill?

"This one's still alive, Shepard." Jack called him back from his recollections.

He went to the Turian who was breathing raggedly. His scales were black with white markings, and Shepard thought at first that it was Septimus Oraka, but the markings were too thin and acted more as a frame than as a mask. The Turian opened a dark eye to them.

"Who are you?" He breathed wearily.

"We're going to get you out of here." Shepard promised. "What's your name?'

"Tovius Sirus." He answered, blinking rapidly. "They killed them."

Shepard looked back at the dead ones, frowning. "What is going on here?"

"I can't," Tovius coughed and Shepard noticed the gleam of liquid on around his mouth. He grabbed a nearby cloth and dabbed at it. Blue blood stained the cloth. "Damn it."

"Don't be bothered by that." Tovius said. "I won't let myself die yet."

"A Turian that's too stubborn to die." Jack said. "Sounds like someone we know."

"Shepard, over here." Zaeed called.

He rushed over to a terminal that displayed a lot of the same cryptic text from before. Shepard rubbed his temple; the side effects of Burst were beginning already. "If only I had Liara here." He thought out loud.

Another cough drew Shepards attention and he saw the Turian sitting up and preparing to stand. Holy shit, he was barely alive and he wanted to get up and walk on his own feet? Shepard could grow to like this one.

"Shepard." Martin called. Shepard did not hurry over to him, but wished he had. Martin was looking out the window, keeping his own form mostly hidden to the other side. Shepard looked out and saw a group of five soldiers scouting the area directly across from them.

"Soldiers!" Shepard warned the others. "We have to hurry."

"Cerberus?" Jack asked, eager.

Shepard shook his head. "Alliance."

"Shit!" Jack whispered angrily. "How'd they find us?"

"I don't know." Shepard answered. It was too much a coincidence that they had just decided to investigate an abandoned facility. He looked at Martin, but dismissed the thought. If Martin was with Cerberus it was not in his best interest to get the Alliance involved. "They must be tracking me still, somehow."

"I've got more bad news." Tovius said. Shepard looked back at the terminal to find the Turian leaning against the control panel.

"You can read that?" He asked in surprise.

"For the most part." Tovius informed. "It's a mix of Turian and Asari code. It also has elements I'm unfamiliar with, possibly Human in origin."

"What can you tell me?" Shepard urged, still aware of the new threat outside.

"They were taking our DNA." The Turian explained. "I don't know exactly what aspect of our makeup they wanted, but they took it. It seems they want to integrate certain elements unique to other races into some kind of super soldier."

Shepard felt his skin prickle. Was this what made the clones, and Martin so effective? It didn't quite fit. But something was definitely going on here and Shepard had to put a stop to it. "What else?"

"A word I think translates into cartography." Tovius said.

"The Cartographer." Martin and Shepard said at the same time.

"There's another word I don't recognize, but it seems to be in your Human language."

Shepard scrambled over to the terminal and looked to where the Turian pointed. HYDRA.

"Hydra?" Shepard wondered aloud. "Is that what their calling this super soldier?"

"Regardless, we need to stop it." Tovius said firmly. "I think its being held here, underneath us."

"Let's hop to it then." Shepard ordered.

"The Alliance soldiers have entered another room, we don't have much time." Martin warned.

They hurried, with Martin helping Tovius along. Shepard did not like entrusting the Turian's safety with Martin, but knew that no one else could afford the burden. They moved down the next set of stairs, going down four flights and found they led only to one room. It was dark and had one main attraction: a tank. It was huge, bigger than the one Shepard had found Grunt in. As they approached whatever was inside became clearer.

"Fuck." Jack whispered in surprise.

Whatever it was, it obviously had more than just Turian, Asari, and Drell attributes. He saw Krogan perhaps the most, or maybe that was just an illusion due to its size. Its most amusing feature was the mightiest of all cleft jaws; or perhaps they were mandibles that were within the mouth. Shepard felt his skin writhe at the sight.

"So this is a Hydra?" Tovius asked, breathing hard.

Shepard saw a plate on the bottom of the glass window for the first time. It read: TITAN 07.

"A Titan?" Shepard despaired. "That's original."

"Regardless, we need to cut off its life support." Zaeed reminded them.

"I don't see an off switch." Shepard said, looking.

"Out of the way, Shepard." Zaeed muttered in exasperation. He fiddled with an item and attached it to the side of the tank. "It's a controlled EMP explosive. If we stand far enough back it won't affect our suits med dispensers." They backed up to the stairs just as the device detonated. Lightning arced around the tank in a hypnotic pattern before dispersing. The light of the tank was out and the being within obscured by dark waters.

"Hopefully that will keep it from waking up." Shepard breathed a sigh of relief. "I'd put a bullet in its head if I wasn't sure that _would_ wake it up."

"That's our courageous leader." Jack intoned.

"We'd best hurry." Zaeed said. "Those soldiers might have heard that and there's only one way in or out of here."

Shepard nodded and they made their way back up the stairs. Shepard stopped and held up a hand to call for a halt. Everyone listened. Footsteps above them. Voices.

"Damn it." Shepard breathed. "I don't want to kill them if we don't have to. Jack, can you subdue them like you did before."

"Not a problem." Jack smirked.

"Good."

As the marines rounded the flight above them Jack let go and hit them all with that anti-gravity field. They behaved in much the same manner as the Cerberus guards had, except they began calling for back-up. Shepard cursed aloud. They could not move past the marines without being caught in the field as well, they would have to wait until it dispersed. When it did, the marines fell in a heap, groaning. Shepard ran forward, jumping over bodies and knew the others were right behind him. When they passed them, Jack hit them with another field, just as three marines were getting to their feet.

"Fuck me." Jack snarled, wiping sweat from her forehead.

"Taxing?" Shepard asked as they hurried up the stairs.

"A single time is no big deal, but doing three in such a short amount of time if pushing it." Jack explained. It was a testament to her fatigue that she had not cursed once in that sentence.

They came out to the large corridor from before and immediately headed for the stairs leading back up to the entrance. Five more marines came down the stairs just as they approached them. It was a moment of stunned surprise before both sides aimed weapons and prepared for a shootout. Shepard looked to Jack but she shook her head, muttering to herself. She seemed to be having trouble just aiming her gun. He looked at Martin but dismissed him. If they were going to have to kill these men, he would make it a fight, not a slaughter.

"Hold your fire!" One of the marines yelled, holding up a hand and stepping forward. His voice sounded familiar but was muffled by the helmet. Removing his helmet Shepard could not hide his surprise at seeing the face of Major Coats. He didn't lower his gun.

"Shepard, thank god I found you first." Coats sounded as fatigued as Jack.

"Not first." Shepard said, keeping his voice neutral. "We left five of you behind us on some stairs."

"Shepard, I can't believe you're doing this." Coats shook his head. "Tell me you're not responsible for the deaths at the Turian Consulate."

Shepard looked at Martin but already had his answer. "I am." And he was responsible; responsible for not stopping Martin.

Coats seemed truly taken aback. He hadn't believed, he had thought there was a logical explanation. The poor fool; logic had not played a part in Shepard's life for a long, long time.

"I command this unit." Shepard explained without knowing why. "I am responsible for all the actions of my soldiers whether or not they acted with my consent."

An understanding seemed to come over Coats and he seemed to notice Martin for the first time, brows furrowing in puzzlement.

"I don't want blood." Shepard continued. "This is a Cerberus facility and we're busy ceasing operations."

Coats head jerked back at Shepard, then looked around them as if the name had cast illumination upon the room. He was silent for a moment, and then sighed.

"Meachum is up to something, Shepard." Coats explained. "He sent Vega here to kill you."

"Vega?" Shepard started, thinking immediately of James before remembering his encounter with the cousin. "Maddox?"

Coats nodded. "I was hoping to find you before he did so that I could warn you. The boy is out for blood."

Shepard rubbed his jaw absentmindedly. "I remember."

"I've got him guarding the entrance, I'll call him in and you sneak out behind them." Coats said without a hint of hesitation.

"Why?" Shepard asked, locking eyes with Coats. They both knew he was not asking about the tactic.

"I'm not Anderson." Coats said as if in explanation.

"Damn right you're not." Shepard agreed, perhaps too forcefully. He tried to sooth the words, "But you're a damn good man."

"We'll see." Coats winced. He activated his com and spoke words before turning back to Shepard. "They're on their way. Get into position." The other marines did not seem at all troubled by Coats actions.

Hiding behind some crates, they watched as a team of marines joined Coats team and they all ran toward the stairs where the first team of marines had yet to appear from. As soon as they were out of sight, Shepard gave the signal and they moved to the stairs winding their way up until they came to the door. They stayed alert, ready for any marines that had been left behind. They met no resistance and made for the exit. Shepard stopped them suddenly, turning to Tovius, who seemed to be leaning on Martin less than he had been.

"I have another message for you to translate." Shepard told him, earning warning glances from the others. He ignored them. They had to find out more information about this place, anything.

"Take me to it." Tovius conceded.

Moving the corpse from the chair Shepard helped Tovius sit down. He looked at the screen and somehow conveyed annoyance. "It is far harder to make sense of." He told them, leaning forward as if distance mattered.

"We don't have a lot of time." Zaeed reminded them.

"It seems to indicate that there are more facilities like this one." Tovius said, reading intently. "Also something about a contact in the Alliance, and the Asari."

"What?" Shepard pushed Tovius aside looking at the screen as if he could confirm the information. "What about those contacts?"

"It's too encrypted." Tovius groaned, either in pain or distress or both.

"We're cutting it close." Zaeed warned.

"It's not much, but it's something." Shepard growled. "Let's go."

As they approached the exit the third and unopened door in that room opened. And there stood Martin Shelby. Or a clone, at least. He seemed pleased to see them.

"Finally, my purpose can be fulfilled." He said.

"FUCK OFF AND DIE!" Jack yelled, hitting him with a biotic blast that through him back into the room he had left. It was too dark in there to see where he landed, but Shepard was not about to let him get back on his feet. The door to the outside opened and five marines appeared; guns ready.

"I knew I shouldn't have trusted that Major _Pinchero_!" one of them yelled and they began shooting.

A biotic barrier enveloped them just in time. Shepard looked to Jack but she was on a knee holding her head. Martin was the one who glowed with biotic energy. Shepard looked back and saw the clone appearing. A bullet ricocheted and grazed his cheek, leaving a thick read line. The clone looked at the marines.

"Get the hell out of here!" Shepard yelled to Vega and his men. It was too late.

The clone was a blur, appearing beside one of the marines and planting a fist in the side of his head. The helmet caved in and the body rag-dolled. The pistol he had been firing seemed suspended in the air for a heartbeat before the clone caught it and turned it upon the others. Three quick shots equated to three headshots. The clone moved in one smooth motion, not stopping to aim. That movement continued until it landed upon the final marine, another shot. The marine dived just in time, the bullet hit his left shoulder and he yelled out, slamming his back into the ball and falling to the floor, legs splayed, back propped up.

"Martin!" Shepard yelled. The barrier left them and Martin blurred forward, knocking the gun out of the clones hand and slamming into him like a juggernaut. Shepard found himself nearly spellbound by the brawl. The first time he had sent two Martin's fighting, he had not seen how they defended themselves. No on Burst he saw the brief flash of a biotic shield appear as a blow landed. It made sense; strength and speed could be increased but the density of bones was another matter.

Shepard shook himself from the sight and ran to the wounded marine. A thick trail of blood on the wall showed where the mans shoulder had slid. That surprised Shepard; the gun must have had armor-piercing rounds of a new caliber to punch through Alliance grade battle armor. The marine took off his helmet, sucking in oxygen and Shepard noticed the nametag.

Maddox Vega tried to move his left arm, but it showed feeble signs of responding. His assault rifle had gone flying as he hit the wall and now he looked for a new weapon. As Shepard knelt down to observe the wound, he found the barrel of a pistol pointed in his face, Vega's dilated eyes staring death at him.

"At least I kill you, you chicken shit fuck!" Vega growled, gritting his teeth in pain.

Martin's body slammed into the wall beside them and fell to the ground. Shepard waited for him to jump to his feet but he didn't. He lay still.

"Shepard!" Jack yelled but it was too late. Shepard felt gravity leave him and he began to float up. Vega was just outside the field and his gun tracked Shepard's head as he lifted.

"And the stars align." Vega chuckled, face shining with sweat.

Shepard had to reason with him. "Don't do this, Maddox." He pleaded. "That man killed your men, we didn't!" Vega's eye twitched. "What would James do?"

It was like a physical blow. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; opened them and looked into Shepard's eyes before turning the gun and firing a single shot. Shepard could not see anything in his position but Vega dropped his gun and let his head fall back against the wall.

As gravity returned Shepard hit the floor rather hard. He felt a lot more sorry for the marines who had experienced that twice. He looked back and confirmed that Jack, Zaeed, and Tovius had been caught in the field as well. Martin groaned and began to get to his feet. Shepard saw the clone lying on his back, blood pooling around his head. Hot damn, Vega was a deadeye! Looking back at the kid, Shepard's heart dropped. Vega's skin was so pale.

He rushed over, taking out a medi-gel pack from its armor slot, searching Vega's armor for its own slot. Vega's right hand grabbed Shepards and shook his head.

"It's too late, _pinchero_." He said softly. The constant use of the term reminded Shepard of James Vega and his own word for him: Loco.

"Must be an arterial shot." Zaeed offered. "He won't last long."

"He saved me, y'know?" Vega was speaking aloud, but not directing the words to anyone. "I was all in for the Corona Plata, but he got me out, showed me the truth. I just wanted to make him proud." Tears framed his face now.

"He would be proud." Shepard whispered.

"Where is he?" Vega choked.

Shepard shook his head. "I don't know. But he's a survivor. Wherever he is, he's doing everything he can to get back here."

The kid choked a laugh. "That's true." For a moment silence reigned, then he whispered. "I wish I could be there when he returns."

He didn't shudder, didn't spasm. There was no sign that his life had left him beyond his silence and the cease of tears. Shepard closed the blank eyes and sighed in regret. A hand on his shoulder reminded him of their purpose. He stood up and nodded to them all before leading them outside and away from the silence.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: HOLY MONKEYBALLS BATMAN! That was a long chapter. Well, longer anyways. Everyone has their own preferences, so if this is more your cup of tea, you're welcome. If not, sorry, it carried me away. XD**

**A lot of developments in this chapter. Where to begin? Coats seems to be on the right path finally. Finally we begin to take the baby steps to uncovering this vast Cerberus conspiracy. Meachum is an asshole and a bastard, but is he involved with Cerberus? Only time and my fancy will tell. Is Tovius Sirus the first official new squad mate? And just what the fuck was that Titan? So much to cram into a single chapter, so much to unravel in future ones.**

**Titan. Yeah, it's not original, that's why it didn't even get to swing its meaty paws around. Don't plan on seeing too much of these guys, unless I get raving reviews to "Unleash the Kraken!" (Looks at reviews) *coughs* Yeah... I actually resent myself for creating it, but they are a necessary piece of the multidimensional Cerberus puzzle. Or at least, they were a way to introduce alien experiments plausibly. Always with the super soldiers, huh?**

**Poor Maddox Vega. I wasn't planning on killing him off until I realized I really didn't have anything for him to do. Now that Meachum has filled in shoes of Alliance Military Villain Extraordinaire, I didn't really know what to do with Maddox. I could have made him a teammate, but that feels too sequelitus to me. If James ever does return...I don't even want to speculate.**

**Say it with me. Malcolm Coats. Now take a sip of cola and let it settle. Feel free to indulge in smugness. On a side note to that, I'm going to be jumping back and forth between Coats and Shepard for a bit. It seems to be working for me.**

**For anyone thinking I'm overshadowing Jack's powers with all these Clones, patiently hold on to your seats. **

**How much of all of this is part of the Cartographer's plans?**

**Hope you keep reading, because I'm not stopping! :D**


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